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TITLE: Trail to the Heart
By Allen Duty
11/16/04
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This was an assignment I had for my writing course at seminary. It was to be a one-page document on an experience we had.
It was a cool fall day in early September when my wife and I set out for Linville Falls, North Carolina. We had heard from friends that this particular place was beautiful beyond description. It was not until we saw its majesty for ourselves that we could say for ourselves that it was indeed too magnanimous for words.

The trail leading down to the river was soft and worn from years of footsteps beating the path. The first leaves of early fall padded our steps as we made our way through the increasingly thick forest. Though the trees were many around us, enough light penetrated through the canopy to illuminate each leaf upon the lush branches. A gentle breeze swayed the trees, which moved effortlessly and artistically around us. The faint sound of water could be heard in the distance, growing louder as we neared the base of the falls. The forest around us was so very alive that one could not help but consider the miracle of life. I considered the reality that many people find themselves in: they are hurrying, but they do not know where they are going or why they are trying to get there so fast. Creation declared to me that morning that although it had no short and long-term goals to boast of, it had more purpose it each branch, each leaf, than many in this world will ever know.

The sudden burst of sunlight captured my attention; we had reached the base of the falls. Smiling at one another, my wife and I stepped out onto the rocks that jutted out from the thick forest into a foaming, white river. In the distance, we could see the water appearing from among the trees, and tumbling carelessly over a ten-foot ledge. Picking up speed, the water raced up to and around the rocks that now supported us. Behind us, the water surged around a bend it had worn into the white rocks and disappeared over a larger fall that we could only hear. The force of the water, though obviously intense, had a certain peace to it. My adventurous heart longed for Eden and the perfection of creation before the fall. I began to dream of the new heaven and the new earth, the blessed day when the Lord Jesus would restore all things and make all things new. Not new to God, of course, but to men who had never known anything better. My heart groaned within me to run wild and free and to take hold of the life that is life indeed. The beauty of my bride was only magnified by these wonderful surroundings. The peace in her eyes was evidence of the rest she was experiencing within this natural cathedral.

As we took one final glance and turned to head back up the trail, my heart cried out that which my mind knew so well from experience: It was not meant to be this way. One day soon, we will not have to leave one place in search of beauty. Instead, we will dwell in the beauty of creation, running wild and free with the Author of all beauty and creation. I found real comfort in the fact that for me, for my wife, and for all believers everywhere, eternity has already begun. The beauty is already being restored, even if we could not see it that beautiful fall day.
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