A small girl was late for Sunday school. She ran for all she was worth down the sidewalk. As she ran, she prayed, “Dear Lord, please don’t let me be late, please don’t let me be late!” Suddenly her foot caught an uneven place on the walk and down she went! She quickly got up, brushed off her dress and began running again, but at a slower pace. Her prayer continued, “Dear Lord, please don’t let me be late, but please don’t push!”

I know God doesn’t push. He doesn’t shove, he doesn’t even pull. Seventeen years ago I wrote this in my journal:

Actually there is someone I wouldn’t mind if You would push a little sometimes. He is about five foot ten, one hundred and sixty pounds, gray hair and beard. I have known him for the last thirty years and let me tell You, I really think he could at least use a nudge in the right direction. I know I’m usually “chomping at the bit” and I know this life-partner with whom You graced me has protected me time and time again from acting too quickly, too rashly.

Yet, this time, surely this time I think he could use a bit of speed to make a decision on what to do. It isn’t that I mind these days alone with You, Lord, or the writing I so love to do, but what kind of reputation do vagabonds have? Our neighbors, who surely watch the outcome of this drama, will think You abandoned us. Then there are my aging parents. Our gypsy life does not compute in their way of thinking. What about the imposition this puts upon our relatives who are storing our stuff?

Oh LORD, You never push or shove anyone, especially not Your sheep. You gently lead. Your sheep know Your voice so You don’t have to push them. You simply call them and they follow You. You know who belongs to You and You know them deeply, intimately. You know how to open ears to hear You. When it seems that a certain someone is not listening to You… maybe my voice drowns out Your voice… Now that’s a thought! Hm-m-m. As hard as that is to believe, I bring my thoughts to You for inspection. You lead… especially when I stop pushing. Maybe I need more faith before I stop pushing? Nope. I must trust Your wisdom and power. I must let You lead me.

What happens when we don’t follow God’s lead? Well…  Jesus said His sheep hear His voice and follow Him. If they go their own way, He pursues them, finds them, and brings them back to the fold… broken, bruised, and repentant. Amazing grace!

The seasons of our lives come and go. Even the Gospels record, “And it came to pass….” Seasons of hardship, disillusionment, discouragement, productivity, and waiting come, but they also pass. In time, somehow, we live through each seemingly insurmountable obstacle. They come to pass and another season enters. Truly, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens” (Ecc. 3:1). I wonder if we even realize how much God leads, protects, and provides throughout our lives.

A lot of ground is covered over a lifetime and a lot of water flows under the proverbial bridge. Yet God remains faithful. Never once does He ever leave or forsake His own. He always leads—out in front, night and day. He never pushes or shoves… but sometimes He carries. He leads us through the hard places but to higher pastures, cool streams, and still waters. Here He restores our souls, binds up our wounds, and refreshes us to follow Him still and again.

You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things and by your will they were created and have their being. Revelation 4:11.

HIS FOOTSTEPS

How strange the path His footsteps trod.
So different are the ways of God—
A manger bed, a cross, a tomb.
Who could have reasoned or presumed?

And who would follow One whose lead
Is through a desert place?
What kind of faith would follow
Just a promise of sufficient grace?

What kind of love would ask us
To believe what we can’t see?
But simply say, “Just follow,
I AM is leading thee.”

And who, prey tell, can follow One
Who rides on morning’s wings,
And dwells in depths of raging seas—
Uncharted paths of unseen things?

We only know that He is God.
We know He cannot lie.
We only know His nail-pierced hand,
Not where, or how, or why.

We only know “He leadeth me.”
We trust His Word—His voice.
We’ve chosen to embrace that light,
A settled, joyous, peaceful choice!

How strange the path His footsteps lead.
Our thoughts and plans they supersede.
Magnificent in wisdom—the eternal plan,
So far beyond the thoughts and ways of man.

—MarJean S. Peters