For the Beauty of the Earth: The road less traveled

In 2012, I had more than my usual share of travel. Whenever I have business trips away from Abilene, I like to tack on a day or two on my own dime to see the local sights. I had the chance to explore Boston, Gloucester, and Rockport in Massachusetts, then just a few weeks later went to Minneapolis for the first time, taking a side trip to the north shore of Lake Superior, and down through Wisconsin and over to Red Wing, Minnesota.

Here’s my motto for road trips: It’s not a good trip unless you get lost at least once, and that usually involves me ending up in the worst part of town! Technology has made travel easier, though not always better. This is my third trip to Boston, and I really hoped that the nice GPS lady would talk me through successfully to drop off my rental car….but she failed me at the last moment. Then came the words of death: “Recalculating…recalculating.” Twenty miles and a round trip of Boston later, I found out that the southern approach is much easier!

My experience in Minnesota was the opposite. Interstates are fine, but at some point I’d rather see some of the local color. Since I had my trusty paper map with me, I had a pretty good idea of where I wanted to cut off the highway. Usually once you get a few miles down the road, the GPS will get with the program and catch up with the back roads path. But this time, it did everything in its power to get me back to the interstate, including directing me to back track several miles north. What beauties I would have missed! Rivers, flowers, cornfields as far as the eye could see and taller than my head, old churches and red barns, dairy cows and the small towns of the Wisconsin heartland – none of these were on the “planned” route. Yes, it took me a lot longer to arrive, but the joy was in the journey.

Those two different experiences aren’t too different from the journeys you and I experience in daily life. On the one hand, sometimes we think we know exactly where we want to go – everything’s planned out, the itinerary is in place, the timeline is tight. Then something happens – an illness, a job loss, the death of someone dear, or even something as simple as the daily, grinding burden of chronic worry and stress – and I’m left circling, disoriented, out of time and place, wondering if I’ll ever reach the destination or even survive the trip. Hope can be crushed, hearts broken, dreams seemingly unfulfilled. And, by the way, where is God in this?

On the other hand, sometimes I know the destination but have lost the wonder of the journey. Mile after mindless mile of 6:30 a.m. alarm rings, diapers changed, reports submitted, church services attended, parents cared for – the mileage adds up, the trucks stops all look the same, the cry of “are we there yet?” is spoken by the adults instead of the children. Is God present in all these things, too?

I bet Noah could relate as he spent a year confined to the ark, doing the same things and surrounded by the same smells every day; the desert wanderers, the slaves in Egypt, the captives in exile – they, too, felt the heaviness of looking out to the horizon and seeing the same deserted landscape, day after day. Peter, Paul, Philip, and the Ethiopian eunuch understood what it meant to have their travel plans suddenly interrupted.

I think there’s something in common we can reach for in either scenario. Listen to the words of Isaiah 42:5-6a, 16:

This is what God the LORD says—
the Creator of the heavens, who stretches them out,
    who spreads out the earth with all that springs from it,
    who gives breath to its people,
    and life to those who walk on it:
“I, the LORD, have called you in righteousness;
    I will take hold of your hand.”

“I will lead the blind by ways they have not known,
    along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;
I will turn the darkness into light before them
    and make the rough places smooth.
These are the things I will do;
    I will not forsake them.”

Isaiah helps us circle back to the basics:

God created me and breathed life into me – a deliberate act that speaks to His love and care.
God created the beautiful world, and it shows the great extent of His power, might, and generosity. Looking at God’s creation helps me see God.
God is present with me, whether I comprehend it or not – personally holding my hand.
God can see the path when it is obscured to me, and He knows how to get me to my destination.

The road less traveled is one where my eyes are open to God’s work, God’s creativity, God’s presence, God’s direction. I hope I’ll see you there!

P.S. Here’s a few of the things I would have missed if my eyes weren’t open!