Moving through the public school system, I always knew what I'd be doing from one year to the next.  School was in session from September through May, then came the three months of summer...

  In the early years of my childhood, summer was a time of carefree country prodigality, where my days were spent doing whatever I decided I wanted to do.  I had my choice whether to take a pony or a bicycle for my transportation, and I'd hit the road early  on those hot summer days searching for adventure. 
 

 The horse and bike gave way to my dad's '55 Chevy pickup; I was driving everywhere with no license at fourteen, steering clear of the police and scared stiff when I saw one drive by. I spent long days hauling hay for the local farmers or working with my dad, learning the ways of grease and steel, spark plugs and electrical wiring. Sixteen came and I was a legitimate driver.  As my range of travel and freedom increased, so did my level of responsibility.  I was in the process of determining the path I would choose as an adult.  As I began my senior year in high school, I realized that when the following summer was over, I wouldn't have school to go back to, and it was time to pick the highway I would travel. That crossroad and many others have come and gone. I made some bad choices and some good ones, and my rear-view mirror is the best indicator of which choices were wise.  All of us have choices to make at various points in our lives concerning the nature and direction of our journey. Some of these choices will go whipping by and we'll wind up on the wrong road before we even realize what happened.  When traveling in a car, I've  personally missed a road sign and had to drive miles out of the way or backtrack to get on the right road.  It's equally easy to make the same mistake when confronted by the crossroads in life.
 

When Jesus calls us, He sends the same message He sent to the disciples as He chose them.  I talk a lot about repentance, faith, love, forgiveness, service, and so on in these articles, but the call of Christ covers them all when He says:
 

"Follow Me!"               Matthew 9:9b
 

Upon hearing these words, Matthew the tax collector got up from the table where he was sitting, left the money box and his ledger, and followed Jesus. Can you imagine leaving your work for the last time to follow an itinerant preacher?  Simon Peter and Andrew his brother were fishermen, and so were James and John.  These four men left their nets to follow Jesus.  All of the disciples left one walk of life or another to follow Christ, not knowing where He would lead them.  Another disciple, Simon the zealot, was a part of the Jewish resistance who were constantly conspiring to bring an end to Roman domination.  He left his cloak-and-dagger work as a knife-man for the Jewish resistance fighters and followed Jesus.
 

We always hear about the "straight and narrow," a term that was obviously  taken from Jesus' words when He said,

 "Enter at the strait gate: For wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat:  Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth to life, and few there be that find it."              

                                                                                Matthew 7:13-14

 The old English word strait carries the same meaning as our word narrow.  Granted, the gate is narrow and so is the path we walk as followers of Jesus Christ, but the path is not straight. It is winding  and arduous, sometimes on treacherous mountain hillsides of temptation, other times through the valley of the shadow of death, and always with deep threats of sin crouching around each corner.  Always following Jesus is an adventure, but most of us try to avoid it.  It's easier to walk the wide highway to hell than to stretch ourselves and continue the steep climb to the celestial city where He wants to lead us. How can we follow Him on the narrow path unless we're very close to Him?  And how can we follow Him unless we agree with the path He has chosen?

"Can two walk together, except they be agreed?"                            Amos 3:3

A friend and I went to the Grand Canyon in the summer of 1977.  We had to decide which trail we would take down into the canyon; there are several, some more arduous and steeper than others.  We read in one of the park brochures that the Bright Angel trail was one of the easier ones, and we remembered having passed the place where that particular trail began its descent from the rim of the canyon.  We were required by park officials to rent a canteen before starting down the trail, and I had my camera,  along with some other gear, while my  buddy had the canteen and his stuff.  As we headed for the mouth of the trail, I looked down a forty-five degree slope through a thick stand of Jeffery pines  where our trail was becoming visible to us. 

We could continue on around the rim to the head of the trail, which seemed like a long way ahead, or we could leave the narrow path around the rim and cut through the pines down the steep slope,  hit the Bright Angel trail at that point, saving time and getting an earlier start.  Down through the trees we went, and everything went just fine until I stepped on a loose rock and began a descent that was much faster than I had planned.  I tumbled and slid past rocks and trees all the way to the trail. I kept hurtling on across the eight-foot wide trail and would have rolled all the way into the canyon if I hadn't managed to wrap one arm around the trunk of a pine tree.  My lower body swung out over the other side of the trail with the yawning grandeur of the Grand Canyon as an unforgettable backdrop. 

After the dust settled and my friend stopped his roaring laughter, I came to my feet on the trail with a nice raspberry on my arm where I had halted my slide into eternity with an arm around a God-given pine.  I had chosen to leave the narrow path laid by wiser men and take a short cut at my own peril.  Something else we experienced first hand was that the five miles walking down into the canyon was far easier than the five miles coming back out.  If you've been there you'll know what I'm talking about, and the spiritual analogy is clear.
 

When we as believers begin to disagree with Jesus' teachings (we can read the Sermon on the Mount again to see how closely we're following Him), we begin to leave the path laid by our wise and loving Savior and we do so to our own peril.  Sometimes shortcuts get us in trouble, but more often we get caught up in walking the wrong way.  

We all stumble off the path or down the hill sometimes when we're tempted by the world, the flesh, and the devil, and we're tempted in our spirits, souls, and bodies.  There are three seasons of temptation; satan tempts us in our flesh when we are young.   He focuses on our desire for worldly possessions during middle age, and finally, when we're aged, he attacks our spirits with depression and regret over poor choices we made in years gone by.  Many elderly people have died lost because they had said "no" to Jesus too many times; their hearts become harder with each refusal to surrender to Christ and receive the Holy Spirit.  Satan does his work on these folks with absolutely chilling efficiency.
 

The valley of the shadow of death is where many awful things either threaten or happen, not the least of which is the unexpected loss of our loved ones. During  those dark times, we really have to focus on His plan and purpose to survive that valley and the losses it brings...
 

Eric Barker was an Englishman who spent over fifty years as a missionary to Portugal.  He labored long and hard for Christ under adverse conditions.  His highway had been narrow and rocky. During WWII, the situation in Portugal became so critical he decided to send his wife and his eight children back to Great Britain.  They  would travel along with his sister and her three children, who were evacuating for the same reason.  Eric Barker stood in his pulpit the following Sunday morning and told his congregation:
 

"I've just received word that all my family has arrived safely home."  What his congregation didn't realize was that the message he had received just before stepping into his pulpit was that a submarine had torpedoed the ship and everyone on board had drowned...
 

Having walked Jesus' path for most of his life, and having led all of his loved ones to Christ, Eric Barker was uniquely equipped to make it through the valley of the shadow of death.

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters. He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake..."             Psalm 23:1-3
 

Are you on His highway or the other one?     R.W.M.