IT’S IN THE WALK

 My arthritic limbs protested vehemently as I began my mile walk in my favorite park.  I started out as briskly as I could, knowing full well that I would slow down before finishing.  It was a radiant day -- crisp and sunny.  I had walked this park in every season, and now it was fall, my favorite walk of all. 
 
 In the spring I had walked determinedly, getting to know the park, it's bends, creeks, shadowy knolls, and open expanses.  It was so new then:  each bend brought a new experience, each flower a new character, and each tree a timeless history.  I hardly noticed the fallen trees back off the trail as I kept my vision on what would come ahead.  It was a beautiful time, a growing time, a time when I wanted to sprint and run like the wind, or just casually walk and enjoy each little bud.  I remember it was very exciting.
 
 My summer walk was more steady and purposeful.  It was like a goal I wanted to achieve, an experience I wanted to savor.  It was a warm, comfortable time, when I almost took the rich beauty of the park for granted because it seemed to go on forever.  On the summer walk, I mused about life and prayed that God would give me the ability to complete my walk with all the experiences he wanted me to have.  The sounds were "summer" sounds of children's laughter, the steady deep breathing of aerobic walkers seeking to attain their goals, and cyclists and roller skaters swooping by with arms raised in greeting. 
 
 But my fall walk -- what an experience!  As much as I enjoyed my spring and summer walks, the fall walk fashioned a special charm and beauty of its own. The trees seemed almost arrogant as they displayed their finery.  The beauty of God's world during my fall walk was incomparable to any other beauty.  Somehow the park had taken on a different look.  I found familiar bends along the way to be somewhat unfamiliar, as the dry leaves had clustered into piles narrowing the path, and the trees were giving up their green.  But, it was such a cozy time, a time when I was completely engulfed in an intimate little world of dried leaves and a canopy of colors bending to greet me. 
 
 There were some trees already barren of leaves that seemed to be reaching up to heaven saying, "I'm ready to go to sleep now," while other smaller trees seemed to shout in their breathtaking color, "No, I'm not ready to sleep yet.  I want to shine with color a little longer."  During this walk, I noticed the fallen trees -- trees no longer upright bearing their beautiful leaves, but lying humbly on the forest floor, their work finished.  And with a feeling of loss, I noticed those few young trees that had been struck down and had succumbed to the end of life before ever reaching maturity, no more to share in the beauty for those who journey through the park. 
 
 A little brook wended its way gracefully through the underbrush, determined to flow until the cold winter came and changed its very being.  It flowed patiently along the ravine, disappearing for a time, and then reemerging where I had never seen it before.
 
 I watched the people more closely as I continued my fall walk.  I passed other walkers and shared a smile and a greeting in a brief moment of intimacy, happy with the warmth of their response.

 As I walked through the canopy of reds, yellows, greens, and browns I found tears in my eyes as I realized God’s faithfulness in every season of my life.  I looked at the awesome beauty of that world, and caught my breath as I realized that some time soon I would be walking into the “winter clearing” where I would share with others the beauty we had walked, and I would rest after my exciting and wonderful journey.  
 
 In that winter clearing I will see God who took such good care of me during my walk, and I will eagerly experience his new journey for me, where the beauty will far surpass anything I experienced before. Until then, I will relish every moment that unfolds along my walk in the park, because it’s in the walk that I experience God.