The Road to Peace

There are many wide, beautifully paved, well-marked roads to my desired destination. Many others want to go too, and they crowd the roads. But I keep one foot in front of the other as I trudge along, knowing that all will be well when I arrive. I will rest then. The crowd gets tighter, louder and more hostile as we fight to move in a cluster. Shoulder to shoulder, yet not in community…everyone for himself, his family, his tribe. God be with the person who trips and falls in this chaos, for their life is at stake. We move at such a slow pace, it seems like we’re moving from side to side instead of forward - stagnant, yet in perpetual motion. I’m slowly jostled to the outer edge. On my way, there are flying elbows, hostile looks and grunts from the pack.

Then I notice a path in the trees, off to my side. A few stragglers have taken it, probably weakened by the struggle and dying of malnutrition. Weary, I succumb to my fragile body and heart, and step out of what I thought was safe, and onto the unknown path. If nothing else, there might be more air to breathe and less madness, so that I may die a peaceful death.

The path is only wide enough to walk with a few friends. To my surprise, there is sustenance along the way, comfort when rest is needed, and at its darkest, there are lamps placed perfectly, so I’m able to see where to step next. This path is also marked, not with billboards like the other path, but with signs of hope and encouragement, which let me know I am not lost. The people I saw in the trees weren’t “stragglers,” they had chosen this route!  Someone created this path with purpose, and I am grateful!

I find friends along the way, some who started on this path from the beginning.  They tell me at some points there was doubt or fear that they had made a mistake, but then someone would come along and help them up, or reassure, or sustenance would become available at just the right time, to keep them strong.  

I met some people who had stepped off the well-traveled road either weary like I had been, or after someone on the other route had touched them on the shoulder and said, “I noticed you’re struggling.  Try this path with me.”

As my journey progresses, I realize that I’m getting stronger instead of weaker with each step.  I hope at some point I will be able to meet whoever created this path and provided so generously.  Even the steeper climbs and deeper waters, though challenging, are possible with the rest and sustenance we’re given, and with my new community as we work together and help each other. At times our road runs parallel with one of the wide, paved roads. Those travelers look worn and hungry. I try handing a bottle of water or power bar to a few, who quickly eat but continue on, or simply pour the water over their heads instead of drinking it. They don’t think they have time to let the food or drink sink in and nourish them, but they thank me and express their conviction that the few bites or the feel of the water will be enough to help them past the next obstacle. I feel sorry for them. When I walk alongside people and talk a bit, sometimes I invite them to join my traveling party. Occasionally someone does, but most times they decline. Occasionally I will hear from others that someone I’d spoken to, came off the pavement at a different stretch of the journey.

When we reach our destination, we realize it is far more than we imagined. It is a beautiful, calm yet active, fascinating place. The colors are brighter, the air is purer, the water is clearer and the light is brighter than anything we experienced along our pilgrimage. We meet the Groundskeeper, who owns all the land we can see. In fact, he owns all the land we traveled, and it was he, who provided the food, drink, and areas of rest. We sing songs of gratitude to him, and some of us weep at the sight of him. We know that he saved us from certain death on this journey. 

We thought we had been in search of peace, but the Groundskeeper says, “Haven’t you had peace all along, because you were able to rest, you knew you would be nourished, and you had community to help and encourage you?” We can’t argue with that.  We also realize that we feel better than we did when we started the journey. We are stronger, joyful and in the presence of a loving Groundskeeper and community, which has become family. We are completely fulfilled.

So if peace was not our destination, what is this?

Arms stretched as if to embrace all of us, the Groundskeeper says, “This is your reward for choosing my path. This is your reward for trusting me to guide, nourish, and provide for you, even when you didn’t understand how or why. Sometimes you couldn’t see far ahead, and you never physically saw me, but you knew that a way had been made for you so far, and you continued to trust. You saw others who had chosen foolishly, and you tried to help them. When you could have kept your bounty to yourself, you invited them to join you."

This was important, he said, because the wide, paved roads with the large signs and crowds, led nowhere. Those poor souls had been duped by a liar, who paved the roads, made them overly accessible, and installed the signs to make his path more obvious, and easier. Then when the crowds multiplied, others were more likely to assume this was the best path. It became over-crowded, and ultimately hostile as each one had to fight and step over others to get ahead. There was no rest. Several roads like this existed, confusing people further.

So, where are we?

With a smile and a chuckle, he said, “This is Home. Welcome! I’ve been preparing everything for you while you traveled." Again, he smiled a smile that could not be contained, and laughed. Then he jubilantly exclaimed, “We’re finally all together! Let’s feast!”

Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash