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Wednesday 28 May 2014

Of Wet Walks and Signposts



We’ve not done the ‘wet walk’ for weeks, so Dusty and I slipped out of the house just after 7 and headed for the castle. 

The wet walk used to include many pauses along the way, at every small loch and bubbling burn so that I could pitch sticks into the water for this manic dog who would race down the bank and leap into the water to retrieve it. She had a habit of waiting for the second stick to be thrown before she launched herself, so that she could round up two sticks at a time and bring them back.

Past tense because now, at 13, she is more sedate in her approach to the water. There are no more wild flings into the loch, more like gentle wades, though she does still enjoy the water and could seemingly continue to retrieve sticks until my arm went into spasm. 

During our absence from this walk the rangers have made a few improvements – straightened a pathway (was that really necessary?), and tacked up a few more signposts. Blue and red arrows, depending on the walk you want. 

The thing is, though, that I know these woods, so I went ahead and ignored the new signpost. A few hundred yards later, another signpost appeared anyway, though I wasn’t on the officially designated path anymore. I guess the ranger realized there would be some rebellious types who would ignore the first arrows but might just be grateful for a second guide to indicate the way out of the woods.

Made me think of God. He gives us all signposts on the road of life. Some are subtle, some are in your face. Since he gives us free choice, we are all able to ignore their guidance and strike out in our own direction. But even when we do rebel and do our own thing, he meets us in the midst of that and gently indicates the best path for us. However many times we go against the arrows, he will still be found on whatever path we take, ‘recalculating’ the best route for us. And if we end up in the mire with no signposts in sight, we just need to look up and he’ll be there.

Some of us do our own things for years and years; others of us join in on God’s path earlier on. But whichever way we’ve chosen to take, he loves each of us so much he continues to slip ahead of us and plant another signpost, hoping that perhaps this time, the errant heart will follow.

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