Here's the thing, you cannot participate in an historic snowfall without noticing a few things. I think there is 60 inches of it out there and more is on its way. One of the things I've noticed as I've endured the white stuff is that everywhere I look
people are making paths. Paths from their houses to their cars. Paths from the parking lot to the store's front door. Paths from the back of the house to the front. People with snowblowers are everywhere, blowing it around. Snow plows scrape and push paths down major highways. Yep, paths. We all need paths it seems. What's funny is that these paths are usually much narrower than what would be there otherwise. You know what I mean. Suddenly we don't need twelve feet of asphalt to drive on, we get by with one lane, we manage just fine with only a few inches of path to walk on to get to our cars. It's fine that we've shoveled a thin path around our cars—just enough to get in and out. Paths. Seems we get all hepped up on having the biggest and best of everything but when it comes right down to it all we need is a path wide enough to walk on, wide enough to drive on, wide enough to get the trash from the back of the house to the front. Enough. It really is all we need. Everything else is just asphalt and cement. And when it comes right down to it, for me, all I really need is enough. Even Jesus said the path is narrow. Uhm. Maybe a narrow path is more secure, less chance of slipping off. So here's to you. May your path be narrow enough to get you through and as a friend recently wished for me, may you never find frogs in your underpants.