Walking
It’s a crisp morning here in our little town. I know because I walked here. The back window zipper on my Jeep has been broken for a while and I finally just dropped it off at the repair shop to have it replaced. The stray cat that’s been sleeping in the back seat at night will be disappointed, but I needed to have it repaired because these January thunderstorms have been soaking my interior. The upholstery shop is only a twenty-minute walk from town, and since I can always use the exercise, I walked.
The first restaurant that you come to when you cross over the bridge into Franklin is a French bakery called Marcia’s. It’s the only thing French about Franklin, and I’ve only been here once before, but it was another four blocks to Merridee’s, so I just decided to write from here for a while. It’s refreshingly non-southern. In a town full of meat-and-three’s and southern-fried-greasy-spoons, this is a nice change. A little bit of European sophistication right here in Mayberry.
When Jennifer and I and Hutch moved to Africa in 2006 we spent a few days in Paris on the way. Turns out that if you’re flight to Cape Town routs through Paris or Frankfurt you can extend your layover for several days with no additional charge, and then just proceed to Africa whenever you wish. We decided it was too good to pass up so we rented a car and tooled around Europe for a week. Paris was beautiful, but two days there was enough. The history of the city and the beauty are breathtaking, but it’s not nearly as romantic when you’re traveling with a three-year-old who’s got jet lag and can’t find anything to eat. Back then, Hutch always had a Hot Wheels Car in each hand and we were almost asked to leave the Museum De Orsey several times because he kept driving his cars down the ramps and isles of the gallery. Brugge, Belgium, was more kid-friendly, with bike riding and toyshops and chocolate parlors, but way too expensive for a normal family to stay for more than a couple days. Jennifer’s favorite stop of the week was Heidelberg, Germany. It’s only 90-minute drive south from Frankfurt, but it’s like entering a completely different era. There’s so much history there that it’s almost too much to absorb. The past comes alive when you are there, and if you like history like I do, it’s amazing. But it’s still Europe, and I can only take Europe in small doses, so this little taste of France right here in Franklin is good enough.
My table at Marcia’s this morning overlooks the Harpeth River, which borders Franklin to the north as it meanders around middle Tennessee. This spot has some pretty amazing history of it’s own. Just one hundred and fifty years ago this river ran red with the blood of 10,000 soldiers who were killed in one of the bloodiest battles in the Civil War. The Battle of Franklin was fought here on November 30, 1864 resulting in devastating losses to the men and the leadership of the Army of Tennessee—fourteen Confederate generals (six killed or mortally wounded, seven wounded, and one captured) and 55 regimental commanders were casualties. After its defeat in the subsequent Battle of Nashville, the Army of Tennessee retreated with barely half the men with which it had begun the short offensive, and was effectively destroyed as a fighting force for the remainder of the war. It was a pivotal point in the history of our country, and It happened right here where I sit drinking tea and listening to French music.
I’ve driven this stretch of road and crossed this seemingly insignificant bridge thousands of times over the past sixteen years, but this morning was the first time I ever crossed it on foot. I never took the time to think about what history, if any, lies in the waters below. But this morning I was able to discover it because I was walking, and walking requires more time, and time is what we need to in order to discover.
There a verse in the Bible that says “Be Still and Know that I AM God”. In Hebrew the word “know” means “to see, or ascertain”. So, in our amplified language, we could translate that verse, “Slow down, so you are able see and recognize the evidence of God, and His presence, in all things all around you.” We spend a lot of time asking God to come into our lives and our situations, to help us in our chaos, and there’s surely a place for that. But what if the answer to our prayers is less about God coming to us and more about us stopping long enough to discover Him, and in turn, re-discovering that He is here, and still very much in control? I believe this is the Ancient Path of Discovery that God is talking about in Jeremiah 6:16, and the path is becoming less and less traveled by our generation.
In my letter last week I briefly mentioned the battle with depression I’ve been fighting in my thirties, much of it due to MS. The song I sent talked a little about this as well, albeit indirectly, as well as the angst associated with waiting. Something I wrote must have struck a common nerve because response to the letter was unusually high. For the 36 hours following the post I was inundated with emails and comments from folks who are struggling with depression and anxiety and life struggles of some sort. I read all of them and was reminded again that we are all walking the path of brokenness in a world that has less and less time for suffering.
There’s a gift in brokenness though, and it comes in the way of time.
When we’re forced to sit, or wait, or walk, we’re given the opportunity to remain long enough to see God’s presence in it. Sometimes this “gift” is given to us by an illness or a layoff or a blown transmission, and other times it’s our choice. The opportunities to chose the slow “ancient” path are becoming fewer and farther between these day and so that’s why this morning, when the upholsterer asked if I’d like him to give me a ride back into town, I said, “That’s ok, I’ll walk.”
Even though it’s getting harder and harder to see, The Kingdom of Heaven is still at hand. The beauty and rest of Jesus and His realm is all around us, waiting to be discovered and rediscovered by those who take the time to slow down long enough for it to come into focus. I hope that happens for you today as you chose the ancient paths.
Keep walking,
Jeromy
www.ffh.net
“Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.
Our church has been working on a series of recordings for our congregation. The songs are becoming the vocabulary of our worship times. This one, called “Always” is one of my favorites and I think applies to what we’ve been talking about on numerous levels. You’ll recognize me singing, but I didn’t write it, although I wish I had. For more information on the Fellowship Songs projects visit please www.fellowshipsongs.com. Enjoy!
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