The Path

My brothers and I met in Moulton yesterday to attend the funeral visitation of one of our cousins. As I drove around the courthouse square, memories came flooding back. Memories of times spent with cousins, uncles, aunts and grandparents. Some of whom we were able to see again yesterday.


But one special memory as I passed the courthouse was of the Saturdays spent there while Grandpa took care of business in town. I remember playing in the town sand box with toy dump trucks, bulldozers and road graders.  Little did I know at the time how much I would come to love road graders.


My Grandfather operated a road grader for Lawrence County. When I was old enough, I would ride with him on the road grader. My favorite part were the times we would ride the dirt roads of Bankhead Forest repairing the ditches of those roads.


I remember those roads and paths. I remember cow paths in the pasture. I remember deer paths. I remember the paths worn between house and barn and house and well.


The thing about a path is that it shows someone was here before. If you follow a path it will take you to where someone came from and to where they were going.


Jesus has left us a path. Following his path will take us to where he came from and to where he has gone. It’s the same place.


Following Jesus’ path means walking where he walked or as he walked. It means following him. Listening to him. Trusting what he has said. Trusting him.


If we stay on his path, we go to be with him forever.