God, which way should I go?
As the sun sets, dark shadows creep. Reflective fonts on street signs blur, making direction difficult to discern. Headlamps stare at me, whiz by, and leave me in a cloud of indifference. Gasoline fumes choke my voice. But I keep going, moving, rolling through the potholes in life.
So many paths, which should I take? Do they all lead to the same place? Do they all lead to Life? If so, why do some streets pop my tires with nails of affliction? Why are some easier to travel with their wide lanes of tolerance, but fail to satisfy in the end? Why does life in the fast lane get me going quickly, but fail to let me exit?
And how about those I pass. Should I slow down and let them inside my life? Like a metro bus, should I open my doors and let the down and depressed inside. And how about the dynamic and diligent? As each takes his seat in my life, the windows fog but not my thoughts. I keep moving.
Should I take the next right toward the Lamp in the distance? Like the magi’s star, I travel toward a white speck across the horizon. I notice my darkness fading into the shadows of sacrifice. I take up my… and keep going, moving, persevering through the rough roads and cutting pain.
A giant hill of discouragement awaits. Its massive black belly, full of other victims of the past, reclines. Down, I sludge along through the wet asphault. My tires burrow into the black goo. But morning is coming, and joy too, so I keep moving.
“God, which way should I go?”
Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.”