Each Step, A Prayer...

Recently, I had discovered a new hiking trail. Last Friday, I had planned to explore it. But, I didn't follow through. I felt so disappointed with myself, as if I had lost out on a present. But, today, I was determined to explore that hiking trail because I felt there was something in the trail that I was meant to discover. A hidden Truth meant for me.

I rode the Whistle-Stop Express for the one hour bus ride to the library. I crossed the old highway to get to the entrance of the trail. It was a perfectly beautiful day to begin my walk. It is early enough in the spring that a cool breeze was blowing just enough to refresh but not hinder. The winding path led me through an open forest of over-grown trees, lichen and moss, fields of orange poppies, deep ravines, brooks and ponds. Bird-song was in the air, along with the occasional crows of a rooster, and the gobble-gobble of wild turkey. Deer stared at me as I walked past, as if to say, "Have you come through the looking-glass if only for a visit? Have you fallen down the rabbit-hole just to say hello?" I smiled at the deer. They looked at me with knowing glances. I walked for two hours. I turned my brain off. Each step was a prayer. "God please help the earthquake victims in China. Please help those struggling to rebuild homes in Haiti. Please help all travelers stranded across Europe due to volcano ash. Please help all those in need, all who suffer, all who yearn to heal." These were the only thoughts I allowed myself, as I stepped deeper and deeper into the thick pine scent. Oh dear reader! How I thought of you walking with me in spirit, if not in body.

I rested by abandoned railroad tracks. I sat down and drank water. Have you ever gone on a journey that only just begins at the very moment you thought it had come to an end? Maybe, that's the lesson for today? Maybe, that was my hidden Truth? The journey doesn't end. We continue. We go on. We evolve, and are transformed.

A curious squirrel approached the bench I was sitting on. Obviously, it was his bench, not mine. As I had no food to share with him. I thanked him for the use of the bench, and continued on. Amen.