April 6, 2009 The Narrow Path

As young Christians, new in our walks with God, full of enthusiasm and devotion, we may look at the verse in Matthew that talks of the “narrow way” we’re on (7:14) and envision a picturesque path winding through verdant meadows. The path is narrow, but the view on either side is pleasant. “God’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world” (from the Gospel according to Robert Browning).

And then it changes.

Years pass. We mature by microscopic increments, unable to gauge discernible progress, yet accepting in faith that it is actually taking place. Just as subtly the path change. Leg muscles ache from the incline. When did those rocks get there?

In places, the path winds around a mountainside, where loose pebbles threaten to cause our feet to slip. No mossy bank if we fall, either—that’s a precipice over the side! Staying on the path seems not so much a faith-maintaining plan, as a life-saving mission.

And it just keeps changing.

Looking back at the early years of our marriage—so much of our relationship with the Lord can be compared to the earthly relationship of husband and wife (see Ephesians 5)—and it made me think of the narrow path I’d followed there.

Marrying at 18, I wanted to be the perfect wife. Not a great wife. Not a good wife.…perfection was the goal, and I was naïve enough to see it as an attainable one. By the time I was 26, I had four children and wanted to be the perfect mother too!

Oh, how my husband and children would laugh to read those words today.
Because there is a very fine line between striving for personal excellence and demanding excellence from everyone around us…between achieving godly goals and acquiring ungodly pride. I was responsible for too many stubbed toes, dragging loved ones along, occasionally watching a friend fall off the precipice while I determinedly kept my eyes on the summit.

And I realized, as I thought, that that narrow road mentioned previously has become more like that “fine line” in other ways as well. Choices that used to be simple, painted in stark whites and blacks (“That is a sin, so I must avoid it.”) are increasingly more intricate in shades of grays—go to that meeting or watch television with my husband, who’s been working so hard? A credible case can often be made for either side. Which is why we must learn to hear the Spirit’s voice and obey it, regardless of what our minds tell us (see Isaiah 30:21).

At times, walking with God (or at least trying to walk with him—it’s soooo easy to take our eyes off him, just for a split-second, and then spend days…weeks…months! catching up)—takes us around and around a mountain until we actually learn our lesson and get to move on…but instead of a better path with a nicer view, we find ourselves facing an even greater challenge.
I don’t know about you, but there are days when I’d like to trade in this tightrope I’m inching along on for something a little wider—say, the Autobahn. In a Mercedes convertible. Going 100 miles an hour. And then I remember where I’m headed.

“Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent” (John 17:3, New International Version).

The road to Life is narrow—so narrow we’ll surely fall unless we lean against God, who said he would never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). It’s dangerous—so dangerous we’ll never survive unless we let him carry us through the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23:4). It’s difficult, requiring our muscles to work harder, grow stronger.

There is a series of gory movies called “Final Destination” (1-4) in which teens get killed under strange circumstances. Their “final destination” is a gruesome death. For Christians, our “final destination”—the end of the path—is literally the opposite. We’re on our way to real, eternal, never-ending life and the perfection that is only attainable when we see Jesus face to face (1 John 3:2).

It isn’t about how fast we run it, or how spiritual we look, or whether our particular path seems uneventful compared to the ones we’ve heard others talking about. It’s about knowing who we’ll see at journey’s end.