A sweet and gentle memory came to mind the other morning. It was the memory of following my father to the barn on a cold and snowy winter morning. The sidewalk path to the barnyard had not been cleared and Dad was blazing the trail. I don’t know if he was aware or not, but I would be behind him taking these giant steps trying to stay in the imprint of his boots. 

As a boy of ten or eleven, my height and stride just didn’t match up, but it didn’t stop me from trying. I wanted so desperately to match his steps. The snow was to his ankles, but it was nearly to my knees. For him it was an effortless stride, for me a struggle.

I’m not sure when it happened, maybe fourteen or fifteen, but I had grown into those strides and could match his boot imprint. Somewhere during this time I remember feeling all grown up. I could now match Dad’s stride for stride. At least he let me think I could.

This image of the little boy trying to match his father’s footsteps in the snow came during some early morning reflections on a question asked of me nearly two years ago. My spiritual advisor and I had been discussing the early thoughts of retirement. It was difficult to imagine. From the time I could hold a bottle to a calf and shake bedding in a stall I had chores. So, from about six or seven, I worked in some way around the farm. The thought of “what in the world am I going to do” was ever in my mind and heart.

Then came the question that stopped me in my tracks, she asked, “So Jarvis, do you think that maybe the Lord is asking you, what would you like to do now?” I was speechless. In all my memory I had no recollection of ever being asked that question. I had no answer.

For the past two years I’ve carried that question with me, and I believe I’ve finally found my answer. I want to step in the imprint of my Father’s boots. I just want to step where He steps. If I do, I know He won’t lead me over a cliff or lose me in the fog. His stride is so effortless and mine stretches me to the limit to keep up, but as I grow the struggle will grow less. And perhaps the goal was never to fill my Father’s shoes, but simply to walk where He walks.

Oh, I know I will never match stride for stride, but that wasn’t the question. It was, “What do you want to do?”

If I may be so bold, my question to you is the same. Maybe your heavenly Father is asking, “What would you like to do?”  

I can’t answer for anyone but myself. Each must wrestle with their own response. 

Jesus talked about “abiding” (dwell, live, lodge). That is the place where the answer comes and fruit is produced. 

John 15:4 (ESV)

4 Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.

I can imagine different images may come to mind for each of us. What I’ve shared is deeply personal to me. As you ponder the question, let it sit for a while. Resist the urge to rush an answer. Allow it to rise through the noise and bring you peace.

Grace and peace,

Jarvis—From Soil To Soul