The Lord’s had His hand on me a good long while. Saved at the age of ten, I “walked the aisle” and continued on down the road, following hard after my Jesus toward heaven and “home.” Along the way, I got married and stayed married for going on 30 years. If you think I take that the least bit for granted, you would be wrong. There were a couple of other fabulous detours on the journey, when two daughters, three years apart, rounded out the traveling party. We’ve moved around the country, managed to survive potty-training and drivers training and learning our way around an empty nest. We became grandparents before we became in-laws, and, in the process, were gifted with the sublime in the form of a blue-eyed, toothless, pink-bundled miracle of God (and, soon, a grandboy! Who knows what color his eyes will be?). So, as you can see, I’m a pretty average, middle-aged woman whose walking shoes have a fair amount of wear.
Walking with God sometimes affords you vistas where you can see, seemingly, forever; but, more often, the journey seems to have only as much visibility as we need to take the next step. No matter which way it goes, however, I’ve found there is always something of heaven around me if I keep my eyes trained to look for it. Even if the path is rocky, there is usually a patch of wildflowers pushing up between the stones.
That’s basically what you’ll find here in my little neck of the cyberwoods…just a woman scouting the divine as she travels the road home.