Along the Trail
I love living along the Indian Creek Trail. I am grateful to those who dreamed it, who built it and who maintain it. During this season of social distancing, it has been a lifeline of resilience for me.
· God has often used nature to calm me, humble me, center me. Psalm 19 starts, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of God’s hands.”
· When Jeff is one the road and I’m working from home, some days the trail has been the only place I have encountered other human beings in person. The most special days are when I meet youth and adults from Saint Andrew there. Interactions that do not require screens have become a treasure. “For where two or three gather together as my followers, I am there among them.” Matthew 18:20
· And it’s a great place for exercise, whether on foot or bike. “Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who lives in you…?” I Corinthians 6:19a
In June, chalk messages of love and hope began showing up on the blacktop of the trail. Being an intensely curious soul, I wondered who our hope keeper might be. They were persistent. When one would be washed away by the rain or worn away by footsteps, another would appear in a different location. The messages made it easier to bear the heaviness of the pandemic and the turmoil created by murder and separated families and blatant social injustice.
During August, I walked after the sun went down to avoid some of the heat. One evening, a large drawing near the water fountain implored voters to elect Biden. Again I was curious about the message bearer. There was less artistic flare, and the lettering was less. It was too dark to take a photo, so I planned to continue to document my summer on the trail by taking my walk earlier the following day. When I returned, it was gone -- wiped out by black sealer. Hmmm, maybe political messages on the trail are prohibited. But over the next few weeks, they kept showing up – in various places, even on the street. So this person was also persistent through election day.
One evening post election, my trail walk revealed not chalk drawings, but orange spray painted words and number - Trump 2020. Not once, but several times. No artistic flare, legible though hasty lettering, and much more permanent that chalk. Ugh! Now the election controversy was messing with my resilience-building exercise. At 143rd, I turned around to walk past them again, wondering about who had left those messages, and headed on toward 151st. Near the school, fresh chalk. Someone had left neatly lettered scripture references carefully placed in a repeated pattern to form squares – maybe six feet squares although I didn’t have a tape measure. Sixteen scripture references.
Having grown up in a Southern Baptist Church, I have lots of scripture memorized from my childhood Bible drills. (Attention. Draw swords. Find the passage.) I recognized some of the references. But my curiosity pushed me to look up every one of them. God’s message about loving your neighbor, working together in harmony, being humble, caring for those in need . . . both Old and New Testaments. Someone had done a lot of work. The lettering looked like yet another person.
I may never know who the trail messengers are, but each of them has engaged my curiosity. And God has used them all to speak to me, to ground me, and to challenge me to love, and not judge. They pushed me to decide to walk, rather than drive, to the protest in downtown Olathe this summer, praying for the occupants of all the houses I passed – red signs, blue signs, and no signs. One of my favorite quotes that seems so relevant today is from William Sloane Coffin: “The world is too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love.” Maybe you, like me, need the challenge to look honestly at yourself and to love more fiercely after the bombardment of so many hateful messages and acts. Maybe I’ll see you along the trail.
