Sanctuary

I am a walker. This is something I've done as far back as I can remember. There is a feeling of sanctuary in a walk. It is where I go to think and sometimes to pray. The setting isn't important, whether city street or forest path. Sometimes I walk with another carrying on a running conversation as we stroll. Sometimes I walk alone finding peace in the solitude of my steps.

Walking alone means I am sometimes a dangerous walker, or a foolish one if you wish. I go into places better visited with company or just wander off where prudence should dictate otherwise. I once walked seven miles during a near blizzard because the buses stopped running. Two years ago I suffered an injured foot. I had sat around several days, but then the pain eased up and I went walking into woods I had never been in. The trail grew narrow with muddy puddles and fallen tree trunks to navigate. I was far back when the pain returned. I honestly didn't think I would make it back to civilization against the stabbing, searing poker piercing my foot. 


Perhaps this man was as foolish as I. He was hiking along the edge of a bluff enjoying the view when he tripped and fell over a cliff. Fortunately he was able to grab a tree root growing out of a fissure in the sheer rock face. He hung there, gripping this thin vegetation screaming for help.

"Is there anyone up there?" he shouted.

A voice answered, "Yes, I am here."

"Great," said the dangling man. "Can you help me?"

"I can save you," said the voice.

"Please hurry," said the man.

"Do you believe I can save you?" asked the voice.

"Yes," said the man. "I believe you can."

"Okay," said the voice. "Let go of the root."

"What?"

"Trust me, I will save you, but first you must let go of that root."

The man was silent for a moment. Then he shouted, "Is there anyone else up there?"

The answer is no one else is up there. Of course that is my opinion. I don't think you can ever believe He can save you, unless you are willing to let go of all the other roots that you grasp.