When God Makes a Road
Mercy gracious me, friend, the gate latch is already loosened, and the lemonade’s mighty cold, so come wander on up to this ol’ front porch and take the rocker nearest the breeze right over yonder. Life has a real peculiar habit of changin’ directions faster than an ol’ barn rooster chasin’ after a Junebug through the begonias. One minute the road looks plum familiar, and the next you’re standin’ in wilderness wonderin’ whether God sho’-nuff’ misplaced the map. But Isaiah 43:19 says, “Behold, I will do a new thing... I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” God don’t need no existin’ road to get you where He’s takin’ you.
Changes can leave us plum rattled as an ol’ screen door in a big ol’ thunderstorm. Jobs disappear. Plans unravel. People leave. Seasons end before we’re ready. Yet the Christian’s future is never wanderin’ loose like a lil’ ol’ calf outside the pasture fence. God still downright orders our steps.
That’s what makes Psalm 77:19 so beautiful: “Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen.” Sometimes God’s road don’t appear until your feet are already plum wet. His footprints may be invisible, but His guidance sho’-nuff’ ain’t absent.
Paul plum understood that. In Philippians 3:13-14, he refused to spend his life starin’ back over his shoulder. He sho’-nuff’ reached forward and pressed toward what God had ahead. Yesterday can teach us, but it was never meant to become the porch chair we refuse to leave.
God may not explain every single turn. He simply asks us to downright place our trust in Him, the One holdin’ tomorrow.
Father, when change unsettles me, help me remember that nothing ahead of me is unknown to You. Give me courage to release what is behind, faith to follow where You lead, and eyes to recognize the new thing You are doing. When I cannot see the road, teach me to trust Your hand. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Now then, friend, the day’s already peekin’ at us through the trees, so don’t just keep sittin’ there studyin’ yesterday like an ol’ hound dog puzzlin’ over an empty supper bowl. God may be cuttin’ a trail where you plum don’t see nothin’ but real sharp briars. He may be bringin’ water to an area of ground you plum thought would stay real dry forever. So, step right on out cheerful and expectant because when the Lord leads the way, even the wilderness country can become the beginnin’ of somethin’ mighty good.
With joy,
Gwen
