Backward is Forward

The jungle grew tall on both sides of the beaten path arrowing straight ahead. The way was clear. 

“Not that way,” my Guide said. “Follow Me.” He stepped through a barely visible gap in the verdure on the left. Not understanding why He avoided the clear path leading exactly where we wanted to go, I took a last look, then followed Him. 

Maybe the main trail was guarded? Or booby-trapped? He didn’t say. 

“The trails change as the jungle grows,” He said. “You need Someone who knows the area well. Come.” 

He held a branch aside so I could pass, then turned again and led on. The trail was faint, meandering, overgrown. But He moved without hesitation. He turned left, then right, then led me through a tunnel that must have gone under a stream I’d seen. 

“Why under, not over?” I wondered. But I didn’t voice my questions. At one point I was sure we were actually moving backwards, away from our goal. 

He must have sensed my confusion. “Sometimes backwards is the best way, even when it makes no sense to you. Trust Me.”

So I followed. 

“Listen!” I said, after a time. 

We paused. Off to our right I heard chopping sounds, like machetes wielded against branches or small trees, and voices. A group was working through the jungle. But they were using force, wielding axes, knives, and machetes with brute strength. “Don’t they have a Guide?” I asked.

“They didn’t trust Him and decided to make their own way.  Come.”

He stepped to the right and almost disappeared into the trees growing so close together they seemed to make a wall. 

I followed. 

After a time the chopping and frustrated voices faded. Maybe they had given up and gone back to find their Guide.

My Guide stopped. A small waterfall tumbled over a little cliff into a tiny pond. The rocks were moss covered, their angles softened and inviting. 

“Sit and rest,” He said.

I plopped down, dropping my hand into the cool, clear waters. With a nod from my Guide I lifted the water to my mouth and drank. It was delicious! Cold and refreshing. I splashed it on my face, neck, and arms, smiling. 

We sat for a time, listening to the birds, the trickle of the little fall, the breeze ruffling the leaves all around us. 

“It’s beautiful.” I sighed.

He smiled. “My paths often lead to places like this. The journey is not only about the destination. The way itself is part of it. If you follow well, you will arrive at the ‘destination’ well-prepared and fit for what will be next.”

“I trust You,” I said. “I will keep following You.”

He smiled and rose. “Then come this way, now.” He strode into the jungle on a trajectory I was sure led back from whence we’d come. But no, after a while I realised we were angling in a different direction. I wondered what was ahead. Another peaceful little dell? A chasm with a bridge? A tunnel? I didn’t know. But I was content, realising He did.