The Strait and Narrow

I walked along the path, holding onto the rail so tight. I did what I was taught. I walked and walked. The whole time believing and trusting the best was to come. Never straying from the path or letting go of the rail.

Many mists of darkness came upon me but I never faltered. I never let go. I pressed forward.

But one mist came upon me that was denser than ever before. But I could still see the path below and my feet. I couldn’t see much but I could see my feet on the path.

The mist grew thicker. I could not see the sights around me but I could still see my feet on the path. My stride slowed but I continued onward.

Again, the darkness increased. I could no longer see my feet or the path below. I could not see in front of me. I stopped walking. I kept holding the rail in my hand but I stretched around me trying to feel my surroundings. I heard voices calling me, telling me to let go and to join them. I could not see them but I could hear them.   So much noise. So much darkness. My grasp on the rail loosened as I stretched trying to find my friends calling to me.

I felt lost. Disoriented. Confused. I could not see anything. Perhaps it would be better to let go. Just let go. Then I could find my friends. Surely, I could find my friends if I let go.

But then I remembered. I remembered I was told before I started my journey that this would happen. I knew there would be mists of darkness that would prevent me from seeing. I knew it all before I started.

I realized the rail was barely in my fingers at this point. If I let go, I may not find the rail again. If I let go, I may never find light again.

I held the rail tight again and even grabbed it with my other hand. I may not be able to see but I can still feel. I closed my eyes and started moving forward again relying on my other senses.

Continue. Onward. Forward. Sure and steady.

© 2016 ck’s days


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