Following the yellow dirt road

The weather was hot that year and the rain had not blessed us for more than a month. The road of yellow clay dirt would turn to mud and ruts when it rained to much and then bake hard, dusty and unforgiving in the hot summer sun.

Riding my bicycle as fast as i can to feel the warm wind evaporating the sweat from my forhead. Not really thinking of where i was going but just going to go. Wander lust has always filled my heart and lead me to explore my surroundings from the back yard to the woods and the dirt roads of my mountain home to the highways and parkways of America. Faster I peddle dodging pot holes and rocks struggling up hills then free wheeling down the other side with a feeling unbound to the earth and carressing the sky.

Each time i go out just a little further just to satisfy the wonder of what is around the next curve or over the next hill, careful to remember which turns I took to keep from getting lost. Choking on dust i see a most welcome sight a sweet spring trickling down rocks on the side of the road a mountain oasis in just the right place.

Cupping my hands to capture the pure blessed favor of God it reminds me of how God told Gideon take his army to the river to drink and how God had him choose those who drank from their hands because they were more aware and wiser.

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