“Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.” (Ps. 139: 7-8 NIV)
I’ve been feeling separated from God lately. Prayers are slamming into a closed door. Scripture seems dry and inapplicable. In the absence of connection, I’ve kept myself busy with projects and distractions, hoping they’ll fill the hole I feel in my spirit.
Spoiler alert: it hasn’t been working.
Recently, I hiked a new trail at the arboretum in search of some adventure and novelty in my life. It felt good to do something unplanned, and I was only minimally concerned I’d be out in the woods much longer than anticipated. I came upon a split in the trail and took the path to the right, finding a pond and a small shelter that was under construction. I backtracked to the split and proceeded along the second option, which took me to the top of the hill and a four-way intersection. I didn’t have a map or cell service, so I sat down on a nearby bench to figure out what to do. Not long after, a woman came from one of the trail options and turned onto the path I’d come from. I recognized her from the beginning of my hike. When I’d chosen the new trail, she’d gone along the old one.
I guessed that if I traveled in the direction from which she’d come, I’d loop back around to the trail I usually took, which would return me to my car. I set off again, mildly confident that I was headed in the right direction. After a while, I saw a familiar trail far below and prayed that my path would eventually connect with it. The path began sloping downhill, and I came upon another intersection. I chose to turn left in the belief that heading toward the trail I’d seen earlier would eventually get me there.
Read the rest over at The Glorious Table.