The Path
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For the past 6 years, I have run almost every morning with my dog, Annie. We have run in four different locations and in each place we have made a path in the grass. Annie usually follows me and sometimes runs ahead of me. Depending on the day, sometimes she gets off the trail because her nose has picked up a scent or she sees a deer or rabbit that she chases. Most of the time, I can call her back and she picks up her own leash and runs back to me. But some days, I have to go get her and pick up her leash and hold onto her for a while to get her back on the trail.
The path in the grass has become noticeable and we have beaten down the grass. My run has also become my prayer time and quiet time with God. Over the past 14 years of running, it has been where I have released my emotions and grieved for so many loved ones and very special relationships.
My trail and run has become a metaphor for my grief. I see God as the steady and faithful runner at times. Staying on the path and never deviating from the path laid out. My dog, Annie, reminds me of myself at times. She stays close to God on the path at times and is obedient and faithful. Other times, the distractions of the world take over and she gets off the path. Annie sometimes just stops and waits until I run back around and picks up again with me. Because of the weather conditions, sometimes I have to run on the pavement and not on the muddy or icy trail. It feels like I am just going in short circles but at least I am outside and moving.
So what does all of this have to do with my grief story? Many metaphors of the trail are an expression of my different paths of grief. Sometimes, I recognize that God is right beside me and I feel close to God and have the assurance my loved ones are with God in heaven. Other times I feel distance and go off on my own and look for things of this world to satisfy me or at least distract me, but it does not last long. The only sense of hope in my grief is with God. Grief gets messy like my path, and I feel like I am just going in circles repeating the same journey over and over again without progress. But I remind myself, grief is the journey I am now on. Some days it is intense and hard, and other days it is in the back of my mind but I can live and enjoy the beauty of life around me.
In my grief, anxiety can take control even when I am praying and running. I then reach out my left hand and grab hold of God’s hand which brings me comfort and brings me back into the present moment. God reassures me that He is with me and together we will go through this journey.
I am the Lord your God, who holds your right hand, and I tell you, “Don’t be afraid. I will help you.” Isaiah 41:13
Holding God’s right hand has been what keeps me in the present moment and keeps me from thinking too far into the future and being afraid. In those moments, I literally reach out with my left hand and grab my Heavenly Father’s right hand and hold it tightly while saying, “God, you have me. Keep me in the present with you.”
Life is a path. We all have a path. The path is not neat and easy but it is worth it. We learn to live on our own path, not someone else’s. It is ours. We don’t always like the path and the obstacles and sorrows on it, but we make it through. Keep going.
