My parents grew up in a small town in the mountains of West Virginia. A town filled with lovin’ country folk and roads that twist and turn through the mountains. ‘These roads… ‘hollers’ they call ‘em, surround this place my parents call ‘home’. After my parents married they moved about 8 hours north to the city and started a family.

Each summer my cousins and I would visit my grandparents for a few weeks. My grandparents would take us on drives through these mountains. As my grandfather, my Papaw, drove the car, my grandmother would take her seat next to him while all of us kids piled in the back.  Mamaw dreaded drives through the mountains on these barely one lane roads. These kinds of roads left you holding-on-to-your-seat as you made your way through the mountain. I always kept my eye on my grandmother because she would close her eyes and pray as we rounded each curve, each twist in the road. It seemed she learned not to say anything to my Papaw and just close her eyes and pray. She would pray our way to the other side of the sharp curve in hopes that we would make it around the bend safely. Pray around the curve hoping we wouldn’t meet another vehicle. There’s no way of knowing what may be on the other side of the sharp curve. I remember feeling scared and thrilled all at the same time.

Life is like this narrow, one lane road in the mountains. We never know what’s around the curve. The road is full of one twist and curve after another. There’s no way off the mountain either…just keep going until you reach the other side. I’m sure if stopping were an option, we would quickly take the opportunity to put on brakes and turn around so we could get off this road full of twists and turns! Turn around to where we feel safe. Turn around to the life we knew before all the bends in the road. Yet, life is real and it’s hard… and there is only one way through the mountain. One Way.

I have been smacked ‘head on’ as I rounded the curve in the road through the mountains. Head on with heart wrenching pain. It’s left me wounded and broken. There’s no thrill. Some days I’m not sure how I will move. Some days I want to curl up in a ball in a corner somewhere and pray I would just wither away. The twist and curves, the pot holes, the falling rock on the mountainside – all of it has left me wishing it were just a bad dream. Sometimes I want to shake my fist at God and beg for Him to make it all stop! I want to turn around and get off this mountain and avoid the twists and curves. And oh yeah, I want to close my eyes to the empty room that once occupied my precious baby girl and instead see her in there and hear her laughing and singing. I want this hurt to go away. Go far away. Please Dear Lord, get me off this mountain and make it all go away!  Breathe.

“Please Dear Lord, get me off this mountain”

Then somewhere, through His love and grace and mercy, in spite of all the muck and the sharpness of this deep pain…I find Him. I begin to pray my way through this curve of piercing pain. Over and over again I pray. I put my hope and trust in God because He knows the way out, the way through this curved filled mountain. He knows what’s waiting for me on the other side. He-is-the-One Way-through-the-mountain. I can feel Him forcing me to open my eyes so I can see glimmers of the sun peaking in. Glimmers of Hope. He allows me to feel the warmth of life that breathes down deep into my aching soul.

 “He knows what’s waiting for me on the other side”

My Mamaw taught me more than she realized as I watched her pray our way through those curves. She showed me what it means to trust God…no matter what is waiting on the other side of the bend. I could also see joy in her eyes, as we made it safely to the other side of the curve. Real joy because of the hope she had knowing that God was holding onto each of us in that car. I’m clinging to that same hope because I know He is holding me now still through this painful curve. I’m waiting for the day that joy will once again reflect in my eyes the same way it glistened in my Mamaw’s eyes many years ago.

After we made it safely to other side of the curve on those mountain roads, I watched the tight grip my grandmother had on her seat loosen ever so slightly. She knew the next curve was soon on its way and the process would start all over again. Life is one curve after another just like this one lane narrow road in the mountains. There is only One Way through these curves and off the mountain.

Precious Provider of Hope, open our eyes so the sun can peak in through the midst of each painful twist and turn. Open our eyes so we can see You. Thank you or being our One Way off the mountain and through the curves. ~ Amen