The Ancient Paths

Lake Grubb in All of Her Prescient Glory

Jeremiah 6:16

The LORD said to his people, "Stand at the crossroads and look. Ask for the ancient paths and where the best road is. Walk in it, and you will live in peace." But they said, "No, we will not!" 

In preparation for hiking the Adirondacks this summer, as mentioned in my previous blogs, I am hiking up my activity in the afternoon to work on my conditioning. Ultimate goal...to show that I am ready to roll, seeing my abs. At least 4 out of the 6. I can see the two top ones right now. Hard, hard road down the abdomen yo. Lots of blubber needs to be burned. 

This is in addition to my morning work-out routine. As such, for the last few weeks, I have been running, hiking, biking, and even skateboarding yesterday (after putting on the appropriate padding).  Who is that 50 plus year old fool skateboarding? That would be me...  

With the weather being unusually cool, then warm, it does create the precursor for colds. So, I was getting worn down and sick last weekend, feeling like I can't win. Always trying to avoid careening off the sides of life and find the balance. There are boundaries that shift a bit on the sides depending on the weather, my stress level, how I dress and cool down, etc. Yet, as long as I am mindful minute-by-minute, the consequences tend to take care of themselves. Doing the small things well creates a holistic harmonic health. 

Hiking Turkey Hill is too much strain right now, and walking the Rail Trail is too lame. I pondered if I knew of a trail that had hills that were not too hard, yet were significant enough for me to work on my pace. I didn't take too long to uncover a place that I know all too well. Lake Grubb, a former excavation site for Iron Ore back in the day. Now, it is great with water. It is a mile around with a decent amount of up and down. Once my conditioning improves, I plan to bring my backpack and load it with some weights. Backpack Sixpack. 

Back when I lived in the adjacent town, I used to run down to Grubb and back, usually fueled by an afternoon cup of coffee which turned out to be a manifestly bad idea. I would wear out my body but my mind would not be at rest at night. I would sleep like a skipping stone on the lake surface of REM. Although I was clocking 7 hours a night, my neurons got splayed and flayed. I placed my body, mind, and soul at-risk due to my incessant running and lifting. I was like the dancing characters in the film "The Devil and Daniel Webster" that had to keep dancing faster to the music because they had sold their souls to Scratch (the Devil). In one scene, a poor sucker sold-out soul to Scratch turns into a moth if I recall correctly. Poof into the candle's fire. 

Although I had not sold my soul, I was in a race that I could not win. My ambition to have an awesome and daring life got the best of me and I wasted away despite my frenetic activity. I became undone by my doings. The Lyme Disease and my perforated appendix were wake up calls that something was awry. I had to go back and collect the broken pieces and figure out what went wrong and what I could learn from it to build anew.  Boy, I have had to do that a lot in my life. Reforming and Rebuilding after the wreckage. 

You want great things advises the prophet? Want them not. Ego is voracious. 

If God seeks to amplify my message, He can do it. I am done at self-promotion. I am content to spend my days in Columbia and serving at my school. No longer want to be a rock star. 

I still drink coffee, but in the morning. I still drink beer but not as a counter-balance to coffee. My adage: Drink coffee with the rising of the sun; Drink beer with the setting of the sun. During the Demon of the Noonday, do something else. I like to read, rest, and exercise. Without books I'd be a parched man. Books have been streams in the desert for my soul.  

I think I have avoided Lake Grubb for the last five years or so because all of the pain I have associated with it in my reptilian brain. A pain so visceral that it is permanently embedded in my brain stem. This time, I found the hike to be perfect. Not too hard, not too easy. A good amount of up and down. After I finished the loop, I sat down on a bench and gazed at the lake. The wind was creating cool designs and tides. Not waves, but impressions that cascaded across the lake in an unfolding pattern like swallows in flight. I pondered the peaceful vibe of it all. Slowing down to a speed where life was not blurring by. Instead, I invested in the moments and minutes. How many times had I just run by and missed the richness of it all?

I know I have written about a lot of this same stuff before...I just have to go back to it because the metaphors for my life still have to be mined from those years. May God's grace fill the abyss in my soul as water does to the gash at Grubb.   

There are very few instance in the Bible where running is a positive. Most of the time it is negative. Elijah runs to avoid Ahab and Jezebel. The young man in Mark loses his robe to assailants and runs naked away from those who were party to crucifying Jesus, not wishing for his robe to become his own burial garment. What an odd story but having the ring of authenticity. Like a clear bell.  

Jesus walked the Ancient Paths. To Golgotha. Through the Woods' Cross. There is a time to run, don't get me wrong. For the right reasons, not the wrong. Kayne was right. 

Referenced Links

Lake Grubb

The Devil and Daniel Webster 

Kayne West Jesus Walks (Version 2)