Direct My Steps

"Direct my steps, Lord."

Easy words to say, but hard to live out, or even fully comprehend.

I admit fully that I struggle intensely with this concept. Oh, it's not that I don't trust God per se (yes, I struggle there, too), but that I don't trust myself.

Two good options stare me in the face, I pray, but hesitate, and potentially miss out on both. I suspect I'm not alone in this.

Yet, there are times in God's providence and grace that He has made things incredibly clear. In my recent car search, God made it evidently clear that many cars I considered were not the right one.

Yet, all too often, am I not like the man in this illustration from R.C. Sproul?

I digress.

The other evening was yet another trip to Shenandoah National Park. As for decisions, it seemed like an easy one. I had nothing else to attend to, and the weather looked good. It was Sunday, I could treat it as more of a fun outing than "work". Send it.

But where? A particular trail came to mind. Short, not too hard, decent views all around.

Arriving, I checked out a little spur trail that led to absolutely nothing and then headed on up to the mountain-top.

Shortly after starting, I was greeted by a lone buck just off the trail. I stood and watched him for a bit, though I knew he was way too close. He didn't seem to care, however. He was just hungry. But don't feed the wildlife.

Heading up from there, I scrambled to the top of the rocky outcrop that overlooked views both west and eastward.

The two other people up there left shortly after, and I was left with this great view all by myself, a rare treat.

But then it hit me, that all too familiar quandary of deciding on what and where to shoot.

The clouds were great, sure, but the wind picked up. Surely the leaves would be too blurry; maybe I should go back to the spot down below. Maybe it would be out of the wind.

"I can't find a good foreground," "this location is a great view, but poor for photography," and similar thoughts came into my mind.

"Direct my steps"

Storm clouds start rolling in, and I see lightning. Maybe I should head down.

Truth be told, it can be like this in photography. The grass always seems greener at the other spot you scouted out. But I wanted to really force myself to work this scene here. It is a challenging spot, oddly enough.

The sun peeked slightly, lighting up some of the rocks, and so I shot a few shots to the north. But, shortly after all of these things, I looked at the horizon and thought, "I can be down in fifteen minutes, and head to that other location".

I started to head down the same way I came up, but then thought, there is another rock outcrop about a quarter mile further down the trail the other way, after which it loops back around towards the trailhead.

Let's go that way.

Quickly scrambling, I made my way to that spot rather quickly, only to find that it was a poor view. Well, I can take the smoother path down and get to my other location in a matter of minutes.

The trail is somewhat of a figure-eight. I was just past the intersecting part, and I would head back and take that around back to the trailhead.

"Direct my steps"

I come back to the intersection and start down to the lower section, only to be stopped in my tracks.

A buck stood there, in the trail, ironically, the same one I saw earlier. Looking for dinner, he must've made his way up to this point.

I thought, well, I can't really do much, so while I wait for him to pass, I'll take a few shots, but I don't have time to waste.

So I shooed him, tapped my tripod on the ground, fussed at him, even threw a stick at him (at the ground). He didn't care, just looked at me and kept on eating.

While I felt safe enough to possibly walk around him on the trail, it still felt like a bad idea. The brush on either side of the trail was way too dense to cut through. I was stuck.

I knew at this point that I was not getting to my other location. Now I just wanted to get out of here.

He started to look down the trail away from me.

Eventually, I found out why, yet another buck.

Walking by Bambi was one thing, but getting in between two bucks looking at each other just seemed like a really bad decision.

And so, and I don't say this flippantly, my steps were directed. I retraced my steps to the second overlook and continued on the long way around, hoping that the two deer hadn't made their way to that section.

They hadn't, though the one gave me a curious glance as I went by. I fussed at him, but then bid him good night.

Thankfully, in it all, I still managed to get back to the car before dark.

So did God direct my steps? I suppose He did, and in the process gave me a strange experience that also kind of shows that sometimes He truly does hem us in (Psalm 139:5). To that, I am thankful.

I wish it were easier to realize that when we trust and follow God, He will absolutely direct our paths. All of this head scratching, panicked decision-making, and anxiety over the wrong decisions would seemingly go away, wouldn't it?

And yet, we continue to learn this as we grow in this Christian walk.

But thank God for His grace, and that despite us, He still directs our steps, and will carry out His work in our lives (Philippians 1:6).