Author: <span>Nina Taylor</span>

I love the woods and the creek that runs near my house. When the quarantine began and we were confined to our homes, I began to spend more and more time there. It was a place to be alone with my thoughts, a place where I could hear my own heart, and a place to hear God’s heart too. Three and a half months later, I still find myself there quite often, giving me the medicine I need.

On Sunday morning I walked there with a friend. My church is now open in a certain capacity, but I’m playing it safe with COVID and I don’t expect to attend church in person anytime soon. My friend and I talked about how the woods are a living temple to the living God. Being surrounded by the singing birds and soaring trees doesn’t feel entirely different than worshiping in a church surrounded by humans.

Luke 19:37–40 says: When he came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen:
“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”
Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”
“I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”

I tend to think that the stones are always crying out. The bush is always burning. The trees are always praising. The mountains are always speaking of God’s majestic strength. The creek is always singing about the way obstacles make the music. The ocean waves resound with the persistence of a God who is always with us. The scent of flowers hints at a beauty that cannot be contained. Together with the creatures from the highest peaks to the ocean depths, all of creation speaks its own facet of the truth.

This is what I know when I seek the solitude of the outside world. Creation embodies itself, and because it is always true to itself, it is constantly singing its own song of praise to its maker. Here is the challenge I hear the woods whisper to me: How will you live fully present in the miracle of your own life? What song will you sing with the time that is given to you? The trees and the creek never waste a minute being what they are not. How about you?

Shortly before the lockdown, I found a new trail in the woods. It quickly became a favorite place for running and for walking—alone, with my kids, and with my friends. 

The trail has completely transformed in the past twelve weeks—from bare trees and clear sight lines through the woods, to leafy treetops and thick underbrush. Now I am hemmed in by the trail. I hear birds and animals rustling in the brush, but I can no longer spot them easily. The difference is dramatic, but the trail is beautiful both ways—at the tail end of winter and on the cusp of summer. 

Sometimes life feels like a June trail — lovely and peaceful, dappled with light and joy. Other times life feels like a winter trail — a stark and foreboding beauty. All of my recent hiking has reminded me of a time in my life a few years ago, not long after my life changed dramatically. One day as I was out walking, I kept hearing these words in my heart: “Trust the trail.” 

Can I trust the trail of my life? If I can, it means some important things. For starters, it means I can always let go of regret. Every single minute of all that has come before has led me to where I am right now. It was the path I needed to take to get me to today. Where does regret fit in that picture? It doesn’t. Every step led here. More than that, the past is the only road to the future. If all of that got me here and will get me there, then I say yes. 

Trusting the trail also means I can stop expecting myself to be somewhere other than where I am. This is today. If I want to walk from Maryland to California, I’m going to have to set my feet on the states in between. It’s time to stop chastising myself for the things I haven’t done yet, for all I haven’t accomplished. The only road to where I want to go is traveled one step at a time. 

I love these verses at the end of Psalm 77: “Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen. You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.”

Sometimes life feels utterly overwhelming and disorienting. These last few months have likely felt that way for many of us. We woke one morning to a whole new world where we stayed in our homes and separated ourselves from much of the human connection that defines our lives. For many of us, it’s been sad, lonely, and frightening. These verses remind me that sometimes our path leads through the mighty waters, but that God is with us, even when we can’t see his footprints. 

The trail where I walk exists in all seasons—winter and summer, fall and spring. All of the past has led to here, and today will lead to somewhere else, but I can’t get there before my feet fall in this place. 

We may not know where we are going; we may not even know where we are, but we can trust the trail because God is leading us, whether we see him or not. Whatever the weather or season, the future is around the bend, up ahead. As long as we keep walking, we can’t miss it.