I walked with Micah to the store today. As I walked toward the main street, I saw again the picturesque path leading away from the road. I see it multiple times every day. It seems so out of place in our suburbanesque neighborhood. It runs along the creak and the trees are so dense that it looks like a little forest stuck between two yards. The path runs alongside this "forest" and back into the unknown.
In my head, I know the path is some little used, alternate dirt driveway for one of the houses nearby, yet it calls to me. The call is only made stronger by the clear "Posted" sign just a little way down the track.
Today the path leads in the direction I'm heading. I think to myself, I could just see if it takes me around and up to the main road. Or perhaps it leads to the next subdivision. But no, it is marked, and so I obey the rules and walk toward the main road with visions of "Second Hand Lions" running through my head for reinforcement.
Yet the draw continues. On my way back from the store I think about that path. Maybe, just maybe, the posted notice is just about hunting. Perhaps it has nothing to do with innocent strangers taking a stroll along a beautiful path by the creak and the woods. And so I plan my route to get as close to the sign as I can. As I get closer, I justify going up the path so I can read the fine print under the word "Posted." The path looks perfect. It makes me forget about my aching feet and back and the fact that Micah has only just stopped his quiet protesting at being carried.
As I read the sign, my hope increases. No hunting or fishing it says! I was right! I was right to take a closer look! Four years of longing to explore this path, and all it took was a closer look! But it doesn't stop there. Absolutely no hunting fishing or trespassing for any reason. My heart sinks. I take a couple steps closer. If I haven't passed the "Posted" sign, perhaps it isn't yet trespassing? I move toward the "forest" and drink in the view.
I force myself to turn away. The longing to explore continues but I comfort myself by knowing that at least it makes a good sermon illustration.
