Feeding the Soul

I went for a little hike on Sunday. By myself. No one else wanted to come along.

The pleasant days of autumn are numbered and I haven't been taking advantage of them as I would like, but Sunday was the day to get outside. I wanted to go hiking in the hills. Where we live is completely flat and no matter which way I walk down the road, I am always in sight of the neighbours. While we have fine neighbours, when I go walking I like to feel like I'm the only person in the world.

So, I set out to find a small road in the hills that I could walk along and feel like I was alone. There's a little lake not far from where we live, maybe 3 miles away, that I figured would be a suitable destination. The only problem is I can only find that lake when I'm not looking for it. I cannot for the life of me choose the right road to take to get there. I always go too far down one road because the turn-off to get to the lake happens sooner (I think) than I think it ought to which leads me to another fork in the road where I inevitably choose the left, doubt myself, turn around and go back and choose the right, which still turns out to be the wrong choice because I'm on the wrong road anyway.

Needless to say, I didn't make it to the lake. However, as I was driving down the wrong road, I came across what appeared to be an interesting field road. I parked my vehicle, grabbed my camera and started walking.

It was perfect. It was a windy, twisty road that went up hills and down valleys, around corners and through muskegs. There was not a house in sight. The air was filled with the fragrances of autumn: distant smoke from stubble fires, fallen brown oak leaves, cool moist air of a pond, the pungent scent of rotting berries and the last vestiges of prairie grasses. I could only hear my footsteps and the occasional gurgling of water.

It was a walk that fed my soul.

Recently, it has seemed that I have as hard a time “finding time” to feed my soul as I do finding Jackson's Lake. Of course, they say that you always find time for the things that are important to you.

Perhaps I need to set aside my expectations that I'll make it to the lake, or to that silent retreat weekend, or whatever, and instead keep my eyes open for the interesting side roads that pop up along the way, for smaller, less glamorous but more frequent, ways to feel my soul. Because really, there are not many more important things than that.

What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world

yet forfeit their soul?

Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?

Matthew 16:26