I have a few friends who are always looking at the path behind. They yearn for a time that had been better. They obsess over the stupid things they did in high school or college. They re-examine every choice made that didn’t turn out well for their career or their marriage. All they see is a path choked with obstacles, and they expect the future will hold the same.
I’ve always looked ahead.
Here are a few of my thoughts from childhood:
Someday, I will be as big as my nine-year-old friend, and I will be just as nice as she is.
Someday, I’ll grow up and be in high school.
Someday, I will get married and have seven kids.
Someday, I will be a teacher.
I pictured a sunny future, and for the most part, I wasn’t disappointed. I hope I turned out as nice as my admired friend, and once I reached childbearing years, three kids seemed the perfect number for me!
Occasionally, I look back, usually with a smile, recalling good times with family or high points in my teaching career. Those days are done, though. The same events won’t come again, not those great family vacations, and thank goodness, not those embarrassing mistakes.
However, this year, I turn seventy.
For the first time, the path ahead looks a lot shorter. And tougher.
When I turned forty, my dad cried. I didn’t cry. So what if half my life was behind me? I still had half my life ahead of me. Fifty didn’t faze me either. Friends’ knees and hips had started to break down. Not mine. (Do you catch a hint of pride there? Yeah, I just heard it, too. I’ll keep working on that.) At sixty, I decided I’d retire within a couple of years, and then—the sky would be the limit! I would travel! I would write! So much to look forward to!
But seventy? Most of my grandparents passed away before reaching that milestone.
How much time do I really have left?
The path into old age is scary. One health obstacle after the other for so many people.
Yet, I am filled with hope.
Hope in Jesus. My Savior. My Lord. My Forever Friend, literally.
He has been my companion through young love, through raising children, through heartbreak, and through healing. I trust Him to help me over every obstacle I may come across in old age.
Will I drop dead of a heart attack in a year? He will welcome me into heaven. Will I endure cancer? He will hold my hand through the pain. Will I follow my one grandmother and my mother into my nineties? He will match my steps, even as my stride slows, then shuffles, then stops.
All of us have a God-ordained path to follow.
Some people say, “Many roads lead to heaven.” This is true—with a caveat. Many paths lead to heaven as long as faith in Jesus is included. He has been very clear. “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father but through Me.”
However, every single one of His children will have a different story to tell once we reach heaven. Some of us will walk a path of suffering, strewn with boulders, for all the years we walk the earth.
Others of us will follow a garden path where we gather beauty and share it with others. No matter the path He assigns to us, we depend on His companionship along the way.
How do you picture the path ahead for yourself?
Do you plan to hold His hand as you skip along a path lined with roses?
Will you allow Jesus to help you navigate barriers that block your way?
May each day of your journey be blessed with His presence!
