By Ashlie Miller
Like many NC walkers in the summer, I try to get my steps in early – and it seems that “early” gets earlier each day with the increased humidity. Inevitably, I stop in my tracks at least a few times a week because something, usually minuscule, is stuck in my socks. There is probably a seed of some sort that I have not yet recognized, but without fail, there it is, poking through my sock onto my ankle. It is not quite the “thorn in the flesh” that the apostle Paul describes, yet it does leave me pondering.
Naturally, I pause to remove this tiny sliver and carry on so that I may enjoy—or, lately, endure—my walk. Although I almost anticipate this regular occurrence, I often attempt to press on, assuring myself that I can get accustomed to it. Perhaps I could, but I am certain that allowing it to remain will, at best, mess with my thoughts as I try to have a peaceful walk or, at worst, actually cause a scratch that I would later have to tend to.
I notice that I am prone to pick up and carry other things with me unnecessarily on my journey – worries, concerns, and anxieties. I am not always as prompt in removing them from my focus or redirecting my gaze. They begin to wear at my spirit and emotions from time to time. They can even wear on my mind, causing me to make irrational judgments or decisions if I am not careful. Does that ever happen to you? What little things seek to take over your focus, emotions, or spiritual direction? Are you pressing on, assuming you will get accustomed to these nagging worries?
Just like this little sliver slips into my socks on my walks, so do cares and worries creep into my thoughts even while listening to uplifting music and looking at the flowers that adorn my walk. The physical irritation has become a prompt for me to cast my cares on Jesus daily.
I have been reading Psalms this summer with some of my neighbors. There are several songs of ascent, which were often shared while pilgrims traveled up to Jerusalem. So many times, these Psalms point us to look up and redirect our gaze despite the obstacles along our path. On my walks, with this sliver in my shoe, with Psalms echoing into my heart both as I ponder readings and listen to Psalms set to music, I am given regular opportunities to look up to heaven and cast my cares and worries to the One who perfectly made me and perfectly cares. He can hold these for me, mold them, and remake them into trust and peace.
Have you been on any walks lately? How is the journey going? What slivers might affect your pace or focus?
Ashlie Miller walks her nearby neighborhoods in Concord, NC, usually by herself, but sometimes accompanied by her husband or one of their five children.
