Leslie A Lamb/Sifted Wheat

Tag: Direction

  • The Road not taken

    One of my favorite poems is “Road not taken” by Robert Frost. Let me share a taste:

    “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both.
    But being one traveler, long I stood, and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth.”

    I smiled as I typed that. It was the first poem I ever memorized and recited. I fell in love with its cadence and simple language. I always felt it was substantial – That each line was poignant, and each stanza a choice. And somehow I knew I’d need it, to make my choices, to examine the roads that appeared, and to remember the outcome.

    Every day is a fork in the road. Every day meets us with choices – what to do and what not to do? Only, many of us rush through, never taking the moment to ponder the outcome. We don’t see the choice. We see the obligation, and life becomes a chore rather than an adventure. It becomes a rat race instead of a walk. And we lose our joy.

    Are you struggling with happiness, feeling useful, or like your life has meaning? Then I would ask you, do you see the fork in the road? Are you at odds with your family? Do you feel like you don’t know your kids? Does your spouse seem distant? Then, I would direct you to the roads. Sometimes the difference between life and death, happiness and depression, optimism and pessimism lies in one thing – the path we choose.

    My aunt is an optimistic woman, loving and kind, open and giving. I can look at her life and be amazed. By the circumstances life handed her she had every excuse to be bitter and mean, distrustful and selfish, and entirely pessimistic. But, she chose to walk a path in direct opposition to her circumstances. Some of the family would think she was strange. But, I think she is beautiful. Has her life gotten any better or easier? No. In many ways it’s gotten harder, but has she lost her genuine smile, or stopped giving out makeup stain leaving hugs, or ceased praising her Father in Heaven? Not a chance!

    We often hear of forks in the road, roads to travel, and we think that is about choosing our circumstances. Life isn’t that fair. We are often left to choose within the circumstances others make for us what road we will take.

    In Deuteronomy God laid it on the line: “I’ve brought you today to the crossroads of Blessing and Curse.” (Deuteronomy 11:26 MSG)

    There is the fork.

    Here is what you need to know – what you choose affects not only you but everyone around you. See, unlike Frost’s poem.. We aren’t traveling alone. We bring with us family and friends, and they, too, have to bear the consequences of our choice.

    Every day is a choice.
    Every moment a decision.
    Every decision a path.

    And, the one we choose matters. If I’m in a bad mood, I must choose not to take it out on my kids And, if I do, i must choose to humble myself and ask forgiveness. If I’m not feeling well, I must choose not to become depressed. And, if I do, I must choose to forgive myself. If I am not happy, I must choose to find the source of happiness not dwell on its lack. If I am feeling useless, I must be intentional. If I feel unloved, I must make sure I am loving others, and I must remember that love is selfless.

    “Road not taken” ends like this:

    “I shall be telling this with a sigh, ages and ages hence. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.”

    The final line of Frost’s poem has left literature majors the world over ponder, “So, was he happy with his decision?” I suppose that depends on the reader, and how we interpret our roads and our sighs. We can take away two endings – an ending with a sigh of contentment, of a path well traveled despite what forest of a life we had to walk through. Or an ending with a sigh of regret, of a path that didn’t lead where we had hoped, sitting bitter and disillusioned and alone.

    I’m an optimist. I choose the sigh of contentment. I choose the ending that says regardless of where exactly that path dipped and bent and whatever bridge appeared, I walked it with hope and trusted it was the best road for me… Regardless of my circumstances.

    Today is a new day.. And two roads diverge.. Which one will you travel? That will make all the difference.

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  • Directing Squirrels

    God spoke to me through a squirrel.

    We were coming home from a birthday lunch date with my daddy, and in the middle of the street there was a squirrel. He was pitiful. He was confused and dazed and didn’t know where to go. He’d head one way then circle around another way – going nowhere just spinning. He’d get dizzy so he would lay down his head and then twitch his tail and fight to stand up only to be dazed and confused again. It was one of the saddest things I’d ever witnessed. I wanted to cry, and I told my dad we had to help him. I was desperate to see him be safe!

    We went to my house, and I grabbed an old dog kennel. I figured maybe he we could lure him in and release him into a tree. Yes. I wasn’t thinking clearly. After all, my college roommate and I had played momma to a baby squirrel for a few weeks, in my right mind I would have remembered how dangerous a scared and trapped squirrel could be, but all I could think about was the danger it was in, my own didn’t matter.

    My dad and I walked over to where we had seen the squirrel, but in just those five short minutes it had taken to get him some help, he’d moved. We weren’t content with that we wanted to know where, so we walked a little and saw a tail twitch at the base of a tree. It was our little squirrel! He was slowly but surely making his way up the tree, to safety. I saw my compassionate dad getting choked up and wrapped my arms around him! My dad leaned his head to mine and said, “I’m glad he made it home.”

    God spoke to me later that day. He said “That desperation, that heartache that you felt for that simple squirrel is but a fraction of what I feel as I watch my misguided children spin about dazed and confused with no where to turn. I need you to point them to safety. I need you to make sure they find the tree, the cross, and I’ll Take it from there. Just point them to Me.”

    And that’s what we do. Everyday, in a million different ways.. Whether its through Teen Christian Ministries, LeadHer Academy, or writing books, We point to the cross. We are desperate at times! We want to grab them and force them into safety, not wanting to see them face the pain or heartache we have, and we forget that we can’t save them. That’s the hardest truth. We can’t save them. But He can! Only, they have to choose to fight, to shake off the confusion, and find their way to safety. But they have to walk it.. We can’t place them there.

    I was pondering this very heartbreak after sharing my squirrel story with my friend, brother and writing cohort, when I was reminded of one of Jesus’ own moments of pain and desperation:

    When he looked out over the crowds, his heart broke. So confused and aimless they were, like sheep with no shepherd. “What a huge harvest!” he said to his disciples. “How few workers! On your knees and pray for harvest hands!” (Matthew 9:36, 37, 38 MSG)

    His heart broke! He saw their confusion and their aimlessness and His heart broke. The one that could save them stood amongst them, but what did He say? He turned to the disciples and basically said, “You see that? They need YOU to help them.”

    That’s my same hope and inspiration! I can only do so much. I only see so many squirrels..err.. People.. But WE see many.. And if we are willing He would point out so many more! His heart is breaking still at their aimless confusion and desperation, and He addresses us, as He addressed me last week, “I need you to point them to me.. And I’ll take it from there.”

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