The Celtics said we are all on a journey toward God. Some of us simply don't know it yet.
Today I experienced an excellent metaphor for how this step-by-step stuff really feels. In one of my most spontaneous gestures to date (and that says a GREAT deal), I called a spring breaking friend when my morning meeting was cancelled and we took off to a state park near Austin for a hike we'd been planning for later.
The park is nice. The trail wasn't difficult. But while the ride there was one burst of color after another as we called out the Texas wildflowers that are already bursting forth along I-10, the park was brown . . . very brown. Pine trees are what it's known for and we saw plenty of them and a forest floor of needles -- all brown. No flowers. No wildlife. Just brown. 8.5 miles of brown.
At several points along the otherwise well-marked trail I began to see the metaphor emerge. I would turn a corner and before me was a vast expanse of the aforementioned brown and only the slightest, and I do mean slightest, indentation in the needles to suggest that the path still did exist. I'd pause, get my bearings, heed the suggestion and strike out. While sometimes questioning myself, I nevertheless knew that somehow I was safe.
We finished, tired, pleased with the extra exertion of the day and while we may not have walked in line with those who went before us or those who would follow, we arrived at the destination . . . home.
The journey continues.