It had been a long day, long week, how long I'd lost track. Things had recently gone very wrong, very painful, very heart-breaking. But out of it and through it all I had found the true love of my life, the One my heart had yearned for, longed for, was made for. Jesus, the One born in Bethlehem, raised in Nazareth and from a tomb in Jerusalem had made Himself known to me. I didn't understand a lot about fallen humanity, justice and atonement, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that He was, that He lives, that He loves me. 

He began a wonderful work of redemption in my heart, mind and soul. He took my broken life and began to show me, not what could be reused, rescued, recycled, but what could be redeemed, recreated, revealed in my life. It was a glorious time. How could I be so at peace in the midst of such storms? How could I have such joy in the midst of such heartache? How could I know what wise men have longed to look into? The Scriptures became alive. My soul became alive. I became alive. I was eating hidden manna, drinking soul-quenching water, learning wisdom of the ages. 

It was the early 70's and this new life was not unique. Many were coming to the knowledge of the Lord all over the country. Baptisms were taking place in the Pacific Ocean, Lake Erie, backyard swimming pools. There was a real move of the Holy Spirit all around me--at my office, in my car pool, in my town. There were Bible studies, prayer meetings, or  praise gatherings in someone's house just about any night of the week. It was a glorious time.

But as the numbers increased, something strange began to happen in my heart. It felt like I seemed to get lost in the crowd. I was hearing more testimonies of triumph, answers to prayer, understanding from Scripture from others, but less from myself. I was starting to feel left out, just like in high school, middle school, 'life'. Childish? Yes. Imaginary? No. My heart began to ache again. I yearned for reassurance. I knew I was changed, I knew I was forever different. Not the difference that comes from embracing a philosophy, or being convinced by logic, or buying into a belief system, but more like eating, digestion, assimilation. You can't find the food you ate last week, isolate it and decide against it. It is no longer carrots, apples, bread; it has become skin, hair, teeth, part of us. 

I took a drive to think, pray, get away. I found myself at a nearby lake. It was early evening. A weekday. A beautiful evening, clear sky, quiet. The small beach was deserted. I walked down to the water's edge, not having any specific thoughts, not sure what was wrong, not sure what I thought I needed. As the sun moved lower in the west, a marvelous reflection spanned the lake rippling gently across the calm water. A glorious red-orange pathway was spread out from the sun, ending directly at my feet. I've seen this before, but this time I realized that if I moved 10 feet , 100 feet, 1000 feet up or down the beach, the reflection would still be at my feet. I realized that if there were 50, 500, 5 million people on the beach, they would all see what I was seeing--a path at their feet--and that wouldn't diminish what I was seeing in the least. 

And in my heart I saw an open invitation from the Son, a royal invitation rolled out like a heavenly red carpet right to my feet. A pathway not on solid, tangible ground, but a pathway that required faith, trust, assurance. No one else can see my path. It is for me alone. But to each one He offers their own unique invitation to come to Him, to follow, to step out and walk a path that is neither logical nor possible in the earthly realm. But to him who is born of the Spirit, born from above, to as many that will receive Him, to them He gives power to become sons of God. We are each unique to Him, special. He draws us to Himself. The invitation is extended to anyone who is thirsty, to come and drink of the Water of Life without price, and to dwell with Him forever.