Deja vu: “already seen”. I’m walking a heavily trodden path; I have been here before. The trees have been marked, the trail has been blazed. The once distant memories are now at the forefront of my mind. I think to myself, “Am I really here again? Is this really happening?” Then the sound of thunder rips me from my thoughts as a flash of lighting peals across the night sky illuminating a new path before me. Without the flash of light I don’t know that I would have seen this path. It is hidden away, behind a large boulder and heavily overgrown. There are no markers on this path, no signs of travel. As I stand staring at this newly found path it begins to rain.
The drops are huge, heavy, wet. My hair becomes soaked, it’s clinging to my face. Water is pouring over me, my eyesight is muddled. My clothes are heavy and I fall to the ground; a heap of limbs, tangled hair, and overwhelming emotional pain. My own, hot tears add to the moisture that is now all around me; I am being consumed. I must look like a swamp creature as I sit here amidst the mud and muck feeling sorry for myself. But I can’t move. I’m paralyzed with sadness. I’m not sure I have the strength to fight through this tangled mess of foliage before me. “Not your strength, but mine,” says the Lord. This rain storm represents a new beginning, a time of refreshing from the Lord. This is a new chapter. I am being renewed and made whole. It is time to pull myself together and go where I have been called.
The first path, the one frequently travelled, has been conquered. This new path, the road not taken presents new challenges, new trials. Not unlike the challenges once faced. Jesus, you led the way down the first path when it seemed hopeless and you brought me to a new beginning, into blessings. I grew so much and I got so close to you. I know that if I must travel this new path you will be with me again. You will bring me through to victory. Not my will, but yours be done. I will follow you, and by faith, I will be victorious once more! I will not faint or grow weary, I will run the race marked out for me; I will never give up.