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“For the Lord Thy God bringeth thee into a good land” (From Deut. 8)
When I moved into my downsized house after many years in a much larger, more private residence, I was surprised to discover one cold winter day, along with my little grandson, a quiet, secluded park that offered solitude for reflection, a walking path for exercise and a playground for entertainment. Recently, my younger daughter took an autumn picture of the entrance to the park and when I saw it I recalled the passage from Deuteronomy 8 that said the God brings us into a good land. The picture looked like a doorway into the season of Fall, into the secrets of the soul, into the sweetness of expectation. My reflections also brought me down the road to Robert Frost’s 1920 poem “The Road Less Taken.” I include it here so you won’t have to go and look it up.
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Many years ago my husband shared a story about a time when he attended Kenyon College. He was walking along a grassy path on his way to class, or avoiding his class, when he sat down under a shady tree and dreamily sat there as the sun shone down on him. A man appeared in casual sweater and asked if he would be disturbing him if he joined him in this respite. He asked my husband’s name and he responded “Sidney Smith.” “Oh,” said the man, “I am in the presence of an ordained author from the the 1800’s (you can look up Sydney Smith for yourselves).” My husband Sidney and the man laughed at the quip and then spent a leisurely afternoon talking about this and that, the meaning of life and so on. The man was particularly interested in my husband’s young life – where had he come from, what were his dreams and hopes, what were theology studies like at Kenyon, etc. My husband said he felt quite important that this middle aged man took such interest in the thoughts of someone his age and edified by the conversation as a whole. He especially felt humbled when, as the conversation wound down and the two were shaking hands in goodby, he remembered to ask the man how it was that he was on campus that day. The man said he had come as a guest speaker and had the afternoon free to enjoy the campus and how wonderful it was to spend that afternoon with such a bright young person. When my husband asked the identity of this guest speaker, it turned out that he had spent the day chatting and conversing with Robert Frost.
Life is full of regret. None of us get too far down the road of life without a bagful. Sydney Smith (mentioned above – ie. you can look him up) said, ““Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable.” Robert Frost mulls over the fickle and significant choices we make about the road we will travel and have traveled. Both acknowledge that, whatever our age, because of the restrictions and circumstances of this life, that there will be roads, may even a particular road, that we will leave for another day, “Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.” There are the regrets of things we have done and wish we hadn’t and there are the regrets about the things we w haven’t done and wish we had. There is the regret associated with the lack of time necessitated by the routines of producing income and managing the home. There is the regret of not enjoying our kids more when they were young or postponing retirement until we were too old, weary or sick to take pleasure in it. There are the regrets of poor choices when we were young that may have changed the course of our futures and there is the regret of all the “if-only’s” and “might-have-beens.” There is the regret of all of the roads we were unable, for whatever reason, to take. Fall reminds us of our regrets. It is the season that reflects the state of humankind. So much dying surrounds Autumn. Yet so much glory also. In the rich and magnificent hues of reds, yellows, oranges, purples and browns all set against the blue/white sky we are reminded of the glory of life as well. For life is also full of surprise and discovery. What a wonderful road I found unexpectedly leading to a lovely park. What a metaphoric experience to conjure up all the other unexpected moments of our lives – our child’s first walking step; the double rainbow over the bay after the storm, the smile on faces of strangers beside us as they greet each other for tea; the belly-laughs, the brazen hope, the banana peels that slip us up. It is our spiritual calling, even obligation I might say, to learn to walk the road the Lord has set us upon, the road we have chosen, the road full of daily hustle and bustle or the road less taken with authenticity, with dignity with integrity.
Humanity is the season of Autumn in all seasons – gloriously walking down the road toward death – surprisingly stumbling down the road toward eternal life. Sydney Smith knew this just as Sidney Smith did and Robert Frost and in the center of our souls so do each of us.
If you are my age, think about all of the roads you have walked down. Remember how thrilling they seemed, or complicated or scary they were when you started? If you are my age, reflect upon all you have learned as you made the journey and the wisdom that began to grow in your heart even without your awareness. If you are much younger than me, think about all of the roads you want to walk down. Envision how thrilling, or complicated or scary they will be and gather about you all the skills, strengths, excitement and hope you can as you begin the journey from here to there; from willingness to wisdom. Let me encourage you to walk all the paths of this life, old or young, with the joy that pleases God and the trust that whatever land we land in, whatever land the Lord brings us into -it is good. Blessings to all.