“I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
The light was fading from the western sky as I made my way out towards the woods. I knew I’d have to work quickly if I wanted to pick blackberries before nightfall. The bushes were exceptionally full this year; big, ripe, luscious globes that plucked free with just a little tug. I gathered as many as my basket would carry and turned towards home. Already, the stars were dotting the night sky—I had tarried too long. I reached into my back pocket for my phone. I’d use its flashlight to light my steps. But my hand found only an empty pocket; my phone lay on the kitchen counter where I had forgotten it.
My foot caught a fallen branch, and I stumbled, scratching my legs on sticks and thorns. All I could see around me were berry bushes and briars. “You’ve been in worse places,” I said out loud to reassure myself as I slowly took a few more steps. “You’ve always gotten out of them.” And that was true. Friends marvel at how strong I’ve been to have gotten through the adversities in my life. But I know better. It’s not my strength that has prevailed, for I’m not that strong. It has always been God making a way for me.
As I slowly pushed onward, I saw a small round light bobbing out beyond the treeline. “Jennifer!” I head my friend Steven calling my name off in the distance.
“Over here,” I yelled and waved an arm above my head, even though I knew that he couldn’t see me through the trees. After a few minutes of us shouting back and forth, he found me. I threw my arms around him and hugged him. “Thank you for coming,” I said.
“You’re lucky. I was at home and suddenly got this feeling that I should check in on you. When you didn’t answer your door or your phone, I let myself in. I saw your phone on the kitchen counter next to your pie tins. It didn’t take much to put two and two together,” he said.
“Luck had nothing to do with it. You were sent.” I smiled, “Come on, let’s get home and I’ll bake you a pie.” We held hands as he shone his flashlight for us as we made our way back to my house. “Thank you, God, for sending Steven,” I prayed when we opened the door and walked into my kitchen. “Thank you for making the way for me, again.”
No matter where you are right now, no matter how desolate or desperate things may appear, God is making a way for you, too. In fact, He sent me to tell you so.