Down the path less traveled the wanderer looked.
She took the steps toward it and felt the pain.
The pain of submitting to Him and dying to self,
The pain of giving up one’s own will and taking on another,
The pain of falling out of the throne and putting another there.
She now knew why this path was traveled less.
But on she went.
Drawing strength from the One on the throne,
Everyday looking to Him for help.
That is when the storm hit.
The storm of sickness, betrayal, and depression.
The storm of marital pain and of self pity.
She couldn’t stand up under it’s weight.
It seemed too painful to reach to the One on the throne, so
Into the ground
Down she went
In a spiral
Of self pity and
Nothing could help her, no one could save her
At least that is what she believed.
When she was completely covered in dirt and filth
She felt there was a choice to be made.
A life-altering choice that would hurt someone, hurt many.
But it had to be done.
The only way to be brought above ground,
The only way to have life again
Was to reach toward a dark, enchanting flower.
A flower she knew was forbidden,
A flower soft to the touch,
Sweet of scent,
And lovely in appearance.
A flower so wonderful that it would cleanse her.
It would surely bring her out of the storm,
It would surely bring her life at last,
Or so she thought.
So she picked the flower and rose out of the ground.
But where was she?
This new path was clearer and there were many others on it.
This path seemed easier, simpler.
There was no one to submit to but herself on this path.
Had she indeed risen back onto the path leading to life?
Or had she sunk deeper yet to the path leading to destruction?
What she did not see was the reality of her heart.
She had thrown the One of of the throne of her life
And placed herself there once again.
She placed not only herself, but her “happiness” on that throne.
She was blinded by her search for fulfillment.
She could not see that the path she was now on
Only led her deeper into a forest.
A forest that is dark and dangerous,
A forest where every person turns into a beast
And each beast seeks only its own needs and desires.
Each beast is slowly wasting away inside.
So in the forest she searched
Until she left behind all the people she once loved dearly.
Something she did not know was that her path
Had never truly been on the path less traveled.
Her path had always been the path of self fulfillment.
She seemed to want to be on the higher path,
She clawed and fought to enter that path,
For what it promised was great.
But her heart gave her away.
She could not fool the One who ruled that path.
Though He ruled in love and mercy,
Those with stone hearts He would not accept,
For a heart of stone cannot be penetrated.
A heart unwilling to give up itself will not change.
So she stayed close to that path and tried to mimic its people.
She fooled many into thinking she was on it with them,
But the few who truly know her as she is now
Can see that the years in the past were all a lie.
The ones she left behind will forever bear the wounds
She inflicted when she chose the other path,
When she picked the forbidden flower and followed where it led.
They were left in confusion and deep hurt,
They would never be the same.
But the ones she wounded will not be destroyed,
They will not allow her choices to pull them off of the path.
They will continue the struggle of throwing themselves off the throne
And putting the One in His rightful place each day.
They will continue to follow the path less traveled.
So where is she now, that wanderer?
She continues to wander through the forest,
Scarcely aware of the debris behind her,
Debris in the form of people.
Not seeing the deep wounds she inflicted upon so many
And hardly recognizing the scars those people will bear.
~ Anna Miller