A Path In The Woods

As I was filling my teakettle with water for a cup of tea, I saw the brilliant yellow.
Forsythia that was not blooming yesterday is a blaze of color today.
I can see them clearly from my kitchen window, though they do not belong to us.
They were planted years ago by our former neighbors.

I had mentioned once that I loved forsythia.
It was the one bush my husband would not plant since it tended to grow so wild.
That’s probably what I loved about it: the wildness and abandon.
My neighbor planted two forsythia bushes near the property line, for me to enjoy.

My neighbor, the one with the same last name, did that just for me.
They moved away years ago.
However, every spring, with the blooming of the forsythia, I think of them fondly.
It was an unnecessary, wonderfully gracious thing to do.

They had three grown children and grandchildren as well.
They had a pool built in their yard after they moved in.
There was always a standing invitation for my children and I to come and swim.
They both worked during the day and they wanted the pool to be used.

We actually made a path through the woods between our houses.
It was a path that, once worn, we kept clear so there was easy access back and forth.
And back and forth we went.
My one daughter took care of their golden retriever and two cats.

Another daughter babysat for their grandchildren if the need arose.
Baked goods or delicious recipes were given and shared.
He was the most incredible bread maker.
She was a gourmet cook.

We were spoiled.
Spoiled with love and friendship.
We had open access to each other’s doors and lives.
We had our path in the woods.

They moved away to be closer to their children.
It was a sad day.
The promises to keep in touch were kept as much as possible.
But life intervened, and the annual Christmas card and letter had to suffice.

I know that if they moved next door to us again, it would be just like they never left.
Except years have passed.
The bustle of our lives with small children is now behind us.
Now it is a different kind of busy, each having its own purpose.

The forsythia is my reminder.
My yellow declaration of a friendship that was real and so very special.
The path in the woods has long gone.
Vines and branches have grown over the place where our feet once walked.

Seeing that overgrown path probably makes me the saddest.
The path in the woods is gone.
The neighbors that moved in are very nice, but they have lives of their own.
They are not our namesakes; they are not the path-trodders the others once were.

There was an old country sign I once saw that said: Backdoor friends are best!
I always loved that and wished that I had bought the sign when I saw it in the store.
My dear friend and neighbor always comes to my back door.
In fact, a handful of my closest friends use that door to enter my home.

They can see me in the kitchen as they walk up to the door.
They have to pass the forsythia.
They walk by the path that is no more.
They make their own way to the door of the familiar, the door of the friend.

Then Jesus told His disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and never give up. He said, “In a certain town there was a judge who neither feared God nor cared about men. And there was a widow in that town who kept coming to him with the plea, ‘Grant me justice against my adversary.’ For some time he refused. But finally he said to himself, ‘Even though I don’t fear God or care about men, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will see that she gets justice so that she won’t eventually wear me out with her coming!’ ” And the Lord said, “And will not God bring about justice for His chosen ones who cry out to Him day and night? Will He keep putting them off? I tell you, He will see that they get justice and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on earth?” (Luke 8:1-8)

How is the path between you and the Lord?
Is the path worn down from going back and forth in prayer?
Is the path clear of debris because it gets so much use?
Is the path a personal thruway upon which you surely place your feet?

Or is your path overgrown because it is never used?
Is your path filled with vines and weeds that cut and tear at your legs?
Is your path nonexistent because it was a path that was never forged?
The state of your path says quite a bit about your relationship.

All of us have days when the path to our Lord is prayer is overgrown.
We see the weeds and we see the vines.
We know that our prayer path needs attention.
We purpose in our heart to clear the way, to lay things aside, to make the path ready.

To our surprise, we see that the path has already been cleared.
Our Lord Jesus is already there.
He has been there a while.
He knows how to clear paths where we have allowed the overgrowth.

We are embarrassed at the state of our path.
We know the tell-tail signs of inattention.
We never meant for so much time to have gone by since we last walked the path to Him.
There is no condemnation, there are just the words: Let’s begin again, the way is clear.

The way is clear.
The forsythia is blooming.
The vines and weeds have been cut down.
Jesus is already there.

Father, help me have a well-worn path of prayer to You through Jesus.
I am sorry that the weeds and the vines have become overgrown.
Thank you that You are there on the overgrown path with the One who made the way.
Jesus, the Pathmaker.