Years ago, I was going through difficulties of my own making. What they were does not matter at this point, only the road I chose to leave them behind does.

From the house in which I lived, I would walk down the drive and head south on Whitley Road. The way was open and you could see the top of the hill a half mile or so away. There were pine woods and fields on both sides of the road.

I made this daily trek for several months while carrying a walking stick. I didn't need the stick to walk. I needed it for the little ankle biters that lived a street over. I never had to whack one of the dogs, but I did have to wave the stick at them every day.

I started off being bitter and was just walking to clear my head but it did no real good.

At some point I started talking to myself on these trips. Then I started talking to God.

I wasn't praying. I was talking. And walking.

I found that God was indeed there walking with me, listening to me vent, giving me solace. Occasionally I would say something and immediately feel the burn of a reprimand.

These were painful times, but the walks were incredible. They became longer not because I was walking farther, but because I was taking my time. I looked off into the woods and swamp. I watched the squirrels. I listened to the birds.

I found a blackberry stand that I had never noticed before.

My heart began to swell and I would sing as I walked and God was still there with me.

I was filled with Peace. The darkness and bitterness were gone.

I have since left that area and no longer take those walks. I should.

I know that God is still there waiting for me to ask him to take a walk with me.

As much as I loved them, I know that He loves them more.

I still talk to God more than I pray, but I miss the walks.

Image by Joshua Choate on Pixabay.