On a family trip to the majestic Smoky Mountains in Tennessee, I planned a hike to what was sure to be an experience we wouldn’t forget. Leading a group of active teenagers and a couple of younger kiddos, I did my due diligence as the family planner to be sure we had everything we needed. The Google search listed a short hike down a canyon to a breathtaking waterfall and swimming hole, which was smooth and family friendly. At the end of our trip, I can confidently say that the hike was beautiful and memorable, but not short or smooth.

We started out with a burst of energy, excited to see what was at the end of the (allegedly) short and easy hike, but as we got further down, we realized how difficult it actually was. The steep canyon trail required traversing often slippery rocks and tree roots growing up through the forest path. The rest of our group, with the older kids, continued on at a faster pace, and I remained behind to walk alongside my youngest son. At five years old, he is often a confident explorer, but that day, every step he took made him more and more nervous. 

As we continued down the path, our surroundings just got more spectacular. I couldn’t help but look up and marvel at the ancient canyon wall, the incredibly lush green trees with the crisp blue sky peeking through. But my little guy was not looking up. His eyes were on the rocks he was climbing, each step bringing more fear. 

I walked alongside him, leading him by the hand, and tried my best to reassure him. “I’m right here, buddy! I’ve got your hand. You are going to make it! Just take one more step. I’m right here.” As I spoke these words over him and led him down the path, his head remained down, and his eyes remained fixed on each stone in front of him. While I continued to encourage him, I wondered how many times I had done the same thing in my life. How many times had I walked down the path littered with rocks blocking my way, so consumed by fear and anxiety that I couldn’t look up and see the beauty all around me?

When the hurtful comment weighed heavily, and it was hard to forgive.
When the heartbreak of miscarriage blocked out hope.
When the diagnosis brought anxiety about what the future would hold.
When the worry about a loved one’s pain is consuming.

At every stone on my path, the same words of comfort that God speaks over us in Scripture have come to my mind.

"Fear not, for I am with you" (Isaiah 41:10).

“Be strong and of good courage; do not be frightened, neither be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).

“Cast all your anxieties on him for he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).

Our God, who is all encompassing and all knowing, sees every stone that is and has ever been on my path. Even in the struggle and heartbreak, I feel the truth deep in my bones that every stone has passed through His hands first. While I can only see the stone in front of me, He can see the entire forest trail that leads to the spectacular waterfall.

Continuing down the path, traversing each rock, requires a level of surrender that is often hard to find. Relying on our own strength and understanding, we will struggle with each rock or try to move it out of the way so that the path is easier. Or, we just sit down and wonder why it is all so hard. 

But, by spending time with His Word for us in Scripture, we can hear His words of comfort and confidence, spoken lovingly over us. With His Word planted in our hearts, we can allow ourselves to be led over the rocks and look up to see the beauty all around. Spending time in Scripture gives us the confidence to raise our heads and keep our eyes fixed on Him as He leads us down the path to the beauty waiting at the end. God doesn’t say that there won’t be any stones on our paths, but He does promise that He will be there every step of the way.

That day in Tennessee, holding on to my hand, my little guy struggled over every rock on the path. But when he got to the bottom of the canyon, he looked up to see the incredible beauty of the waterfall plunging down into the crystal clear water at his feet. With a smile, he said, “Oh, Mom, it was worth it!” 

With love from the path,
Laura White

P.S. Want to learn more about how to hear the loving voice of the Father in Scripture? Check out Living in the Father’s Love.

About the author:
Laura White is a Ministry Coach for Walking with Purpose and a WWP coordinator in her home parish. Originally from Texas, she is raising four boys with her husband in Columbus, OH. When she isn't loving women to Christ, you can find her on a football field, hockey rink, soccer field, or wrestling mat. Her love language is coffee and baking sourdough for friends.