When the Road Less Traveled Can’t Be Found By Cortney Donelson

Source: Unknown

The other day, I sat on my daughter’s bed reading one of her newest library books. It was the story of Robert Frost told from his son’s perspective and written for children. In the back of the book were some of Frost’s most epic poems. The first one listed is perhaps the most famous – and most misunderstood – poem of Frost’s career. 

Robert Frost wrote “The Road Not Taken” in 1920. Reading it on this night caused me to choke back tears. God was nudging me and not for the first time. He had been speaking to me through prayer, Scripture, people, circumstances, songs, and now a poem from a century ago. 

It wasn’t outright fear. (Sigh) That would have been easier to work through. 

It was love. Love of logic. Love of people. Comfort. Loyalty. Respect. Gratitude. These are noble things. That is, until they get in the way – until they are the attributes that pave one of two grassy roads that actually make choices murky and unsettling. I am standing at the proverbially fork trying to discern the road less traveled. After all, if I can just find the road less traveled, I’ll be on God’s path, right? It’s biblical: Dislike the world. Renew my mind. Die to myself. Choose the narrow doors, the roads less traveled. But, what if there isn’t one – a road less traveled? What if both paths are equally as grassy, equally worn - or not worn? I was stuck between two wonderful choices.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both 
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 

I had been standing at a fork in the road in the yellow wood for months. Not one, but two lush roads lay ahead. The first was a straight path to a noble and peaceful outcome. Fun. Easy. Smart. Logical. Honorable. Helpful. These are the words I could use to describe the first road. 

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 

The other road was a winding and equally grassy path that would lead to much joy. It was slightly mysterious though ... possibly illogical. But good. Adventurous. Wise. It may disappoint others at first, but the journey would be exciting and enlightening. I would grow as a person.  

I stared at the two grassy paths and saw that neither had been worn, each one seemingly untraveled. Suddenly, I understood why. God had led me to this fork. There was no “less traveled path” here because these were my paths. They were my roads and mine alone. None had gone before me. God wanted me to choose - not based on how many had traveled them before, but by trusting His promises and His word. This was my decision. My leap of faith moment. This time, He did not want me to choose the narrow door, the trampled path, the greenest path, the recommended path, the road less traveled, or even the opposite of what the world might choose. He just wanted me to choose. I needed to escape the fork – the stagnant position of indecision. The stress of the choice itself and the length of time I was taking to make it were rendering me useless. God wanted me to go, claim a path, and trust my knowledge of His character. He was caring for me by prompting me. God wanted me to move … and not look back. 

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 

I couldn’t take both paths. I could not find the road less traveled to make some sort of ultra “spiritual” decision based on what others had or had not done. God wanted me to just know. He wanted me to discern the way because I had spent the countless hours in prayer getting to know Him. He was hoping I just recognized which road to take when the roads seemed equally positive, even if for different reasons. Into the future, “ages and ages hence,” I will not be able to turn back – to go back in time and choose again. I wanted desperately to be obedient to God’s “call.” In the wait, I had become stuck. 

I believed He no longer wanted me to wait on Him for an answer for every decision. I needed a shared understanding of His will through our growing intimacy. Dallas Willard explains it this way in Hearing God, “Here we come to understand what God wants us to understand through immersion with Him in his work… Many cannot progress in their relationship with God because they focus solely on what they think God might be telling them to do.” I asked myself, could I trust His character  – and our relationship - to make the decision when no obvious answer was coming? “Jesus knew what God wanted done … because he knew the mind of God generally.” Was God telling me that I had enough shared understanding with Him in this situation to know rather than hear?

I closed the children’s book and sighed. The following week, I chose the grassy path. And, it has made all the difference.

Prayer: Father God, thank You for loving me enough to be silent at times. Thank You for growing me in relationship with You. You are God Almighty, and I cannot wait to see how decisions made with and in You play out – even if they weren’t made in response to hearing You. Thank You for roads not taken, creative minds to write brilliant poetry and thoughtful books, and friends with which to study them.   In Jesus’ name, Amen. 

Influenced by years spent reading God’s word, thousands of hours in prayer, promptings from the Holy Spirit, God’s love and mercy, Hearing God by Dallas Willard, and the poem “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost.

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