There is a lot of comfort in staying between the lane lines, of knowing exactly where the road is headed, and of being able to follow along with GPS directions. When snow covers the road, removing even glimpses of those guiding dashed white lines, I find myself longing for the comfort of the known, the ease of seeing instead of guessing and hoping I stay on my part of the road and the other drivers stick to theirs. Main highways offer security--marked exits, warning about upcoming roads, and information about distances to nearing cities. Less traveled gravel roads don't come with any guarantees. Without a map, there's no way to know what roads might intersect until you happen upon them. No way of knowing what towns lie ahead. I'm not likely to turn off a main highway in favor of a gravel road heading off into the distance.
I can remember back a number of years to an opporunity to share with my home church about living in Romania and I quoted Robert Frost's famous poem:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Certainly taking the road less traveled makes all the difference. It's often not well-paved or lit. No one has bothered to paint lane lines. There might be long stretches when you don't pass others. And yet, in the journey of taking the road less traveled, we learn to walk by faith instead of by sight. We learn to trust that God knows where the road is leading and instead of needing to be in control we can surrender. We begin to cherish the people God brings into our lives--those who walk beside us for long stretches and those whose lives just briefly intersect ours. The road less traveled might be bumpy and dusty, leaving us weary and worn. God faithfully provides rest stops along the way, bringing healing and restoration to our souls. It's scary and there's part of me that longs for the ease of the road well-traveled...but I don't think there's anything that could convince me to turn back now.
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