Off the Beaten Path

    I looked down the road in the warm August day (unusual in Iowa), and walked. They pavement was a uniform darker grey, with random cracks creating small boxes or wandering lines; some were filled with black. I walked down the road and felt the pavement beneath my feet, dry, dust along the lines. I looked at the restrictions, those carefully molded concrete walls, chips cracking the even line along the top, called "curbs." I thought about what they symbolized, a border meant to keep me safe, to keep me on the road.
    What would happen if I stepped over them? The decision is hard; the action is not. Up a slight step and I am in the dying grass. I walk on the other side of the border, wondering why others don't join me; but of course I know. The freedom of the grass carries with it broken branches, their small stubs jabbing into my heels, plants that grow thorns, spikier than ever now that August is here and they're dead, and holes where I twist my ankles. I don't blame you for preferring the road. But I love the grass.
     But I don't stray very far; I stay within a few feet of the road (the restriction means nothing to me now). I wonder why--why don't I go farther away, leave the road altogether? Perhaps I don't have the strength, the wisdom (or common sense), to go that far out, to leave the road so far behind I can deal with mountains, fences, boulders and waterfalls. I only have the common sense to stay within a few feet of the road so when I fall I can go back to safety--for a while.
    Sometimes I like to think it is the people, the ones still on the road, that keep me there; I want to be within talking distance of them, within reach of their journey. I want to help them up on the grass when they want to come, and walk with them for a while when they leave it. Sometimes I even walk across the road to the other side. But even then I'm not one of the ones on the road, for they keep their eyes on the end of the road, or their feet--I'm looking at the other side and going sideways.
    Sideways can be fun--or lonely--but isn't it interesting that God made people who like to go off the beaten path?
    (then again, this could all be in my head as self-magnification)