That old, rickety swing there? That quiet place under the trees, where the branches bow to touch the ground?
That place is dear.
The wooden seat is worn and the ropes are slightly frayed. The thick, old branch from which it hangs has started to creak over the years. And yet, it is the place I love best.
It has been the place that I've returned to time and time again over the past nine years and oh, the stories it could tell. It has seen joy and tears. Heard songs and rantings. It has been the place of daydreams and of whispered longings. Of romantic glances and courting blushes. Of baby giggles and squeals. It has been a sanctuary and a hiding place.
Some of my favorite moments have been on this swing.
I wrote several songs there. Had serious talks with those I love while clinging tightly to the ropes. Laughed while swinging high to hit branches with our feet during our courtship. Twirled ecstatically around and around after saying yes to marrying the man of my dreams. I even cradled my little one while gently swinging during her first Kentucky summer.
It is the most peaceful, hushed, and loveliest of places and by far my most favorite bit of earth.
I talk to God on that swing and He has made Himself known there.
Not long ago, I took the last turn on the old swing before the cold sets in and I whispered to that old friend to please make it through just one more harsh winter.
And as I sat there, gently rocking back and forth, that old swing taught me a bit of life.
Each time I sit to swing, I have to chose which way I'm going to sit.
See, one way faces the south with the sweeping view of the glorious rolling hills of the pastures. During spring and summer the hills and valleys are lush and green and sweet calves dots the countryside. During the fall, the leaves change and fall, and the view is bathed in autumnal light. The landscape is truly inspiring. Except, for those pesky branches from the low hanging sycamore tree that always smack you in head when swinging at any height. It's not the easiest way to sit but the view is otherworldly.
Then the other way faces north. It is a completely uninspired view of the road and neighboring homes. But the way is wide and clear and you can swing as high as your legs will pump you, without getting a faceful of branches. It's the easy, ugly, fun way to swing.
And I began to realize that the choice of which way to sit resembles the choices in my own life.
It's all a matter of perspective, really.
The way with the most beauty and reward isn't the easiest, smoothest way. There might be more obstacles (or a face full of branches) along that path. The way that brings the soul closer to the Father might just be the hardest and most difficult journey. When our feet slip along the rocky paths and we feel beaten down by the hardships, that is when our faith is strengthened and our hearts resolve to cling fast to Him. The harder way brings the lasting reward.
And likewise, the easier way, the wide and clear path, doesn't bring the greatest joy or highest reward. When we chose the easy way out, we aren't tested and tried, and our faith lacks depth. If our lives were simple, fun, and easy there would be no need for faith, for trust. There might be immediate satisfaction but no everlasting reward.
Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction,
and many enter through it.
But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only few find it.
Matthew 7:13-14
The past few months have been difficult and wearing, but I have been reminded by that dear, old swing, that the view is worth it. Sure we could be taking an easier, fun-filled path, one that requires less sacrifices and tears, but temporal joys cannot compare to the eternal rewards.
We may come out bruised and battered, but we will continue swinging with our eyes fixed upon the Glorious.
Two roads diverged in a wood and I - I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.
-Robert Frost
