Sometimes the path is hidden by the foliage that surrounds us, the trees that have fallen all around us, and the winds that whip the wilderness wild. And while the foliage and the trees and the winds might hide that precious path for a moment, we must remember that God birthed each of us with a destination so utterly amazing that no wilderness possesses the foliage, or the trees, or the winds to ever destroy the path to that destination.

Without God, we will build roads to nowhere. Therefore, all of the dead-ends that we end up at shouldn’t be all that surprising.

If I’ve created this road, it’s likely that my agendas define it. And although I believe the ascent to be lofty, it’s anything but the ‘higher road’ that I pretend it to be. However, if God’s truth’s define it, there is no road that is higher and there’s no pretending that it’s not.

My heart says, ‘This way.’ The world says, ‘That way.’ God says, ‘I am the Way.’ And if perchance I choose to listen to the first two, I’m going to find myself so far off the ‘way’ that being lost becomes the ‘way’.

To ‘live’ is to realize that without the journey the destination is nothing more than a task rigorously completed rather than an experience riotously lived.

If truth be told, the easy road is nothing more than an armchair in clever disguise. And if you look around, it seems that there are a whole lot of people in the furniture business.

What we’re searching for will determine where we arrive, or if we arrive. And right in the middle of such risky choices, Christmas is God perfectly solving the problem by showing us what to search for and then bringing it to us.

A real journey will demand that I put my shoes on, but then I’ve got to stand up and walk. And I forget the second part, the first part doesn’t matter.

I yearn not for the easy path, but for the right path.  For 'easy' and 'right' are rarely compatible.