The Narrow Trail of Truth
- and -
the Highway of falsehood.

It is silliness to think that any statement or a fact must be untrue simply because it is unpopular, or visa-versa. 

Obeying God is an expression of faith.

Believing that a random thought entering your head is God telling you what to do is an indication of psychosis.

The way of falsehood is a broad, high speed highway affording comfortable passage for many.
Large groups of unsuspecting victims, locked arm-in-arm spanning the breadth of the path, carelessly skip the day away singing as they go. It is well-worn hard-packed pavement on which any traveler can safely and comfortably walk barefooted. Everywhere along the berm, the path is festooned with many billboards promising better living and broad acceptance of everyone like-minded, and dutiful tolerance of everyone else. The traveler on this path encounters countless perfumed festivities, each serving tasty treats which lull the unconcerned consumer into growing fat, complacent, and sleepy. The highway is a series of closely coupled serpentine curves, so not much of the future can be seen ahead of you. The billboards offer a constant promise that around every next bend there will be a new party waiting for happy partygoers. Even if regular experience proves that the party-promise fails more often than it delivers, the assurance is held resolute. Swept along by herd mentality, fueled by the powerful blind acceptance of fellow travelers, the individual in undeterred. When a traveler feels the current party has become stale, the siren call of the highway leads them immediately into the next social shindig, a gathering very much based on similar philosophy as the previous one, but packaged in new glitter . There is no lack of pleasant accommodations along this highway, so you are never too far from the disorienting blare of pretentious performers, and the approving clamor of an energized crowd, but holiday seekers are very reluctant to stop and enjoy them for more than a few seconds. An awkward discomfort grips any stationary traveler with an illogical fear that they are being left behind, having stepped out of the mainstream; a mysterious inexplicable sense of shame overshadows one who dares to even slow their pace against the march of the masses. Life lived on the highway is in a constant flow of seemingly inescapable traffic; pulled along, bumper to bumper along a broad road hosting many wide and welcoming on-ramps, yet offering only tiny and infrequent off-ramps. Travelers on this highway are never satisfied, always expecting a better party, always thinking things "This is great, but things will surely be much better soon."

If a courageous traveler dares to sneak down one of the narrow, dark, off-ramps, they find quiet Truth patiently waiting at the end of the rugged trail. It lies unannounced, deep in the wilderness, unmoved by popularity, ready to give all without compensation, because it requires nothing. Those who would find truth must leave the comforts and optimism of the teeming crowds, and diligently search where few care to go; pursuing reality as precious prey, against all opposition and enduring any proportionate pain with patience, and perseverance. 

 To walk the trail to truth is quiet, lonely, difficult, costly, and desolate. To continue to travel this trail necessarily requires a traveler to abandon their current route forever. It is understood that the only provisions found along the trail will be hard-tack and warm-water but the promised glory that awaits at the end of the trail makes any hardship inconsequential. The faint trail has no signs of trampling, and there are few signs that remain from previous travelers, which is eventually explained by the understanding that each travelers trail is uniquely designed for them personally. Looking ahead, the way is only illuminated by brief shards of unfocused light cutting through the dark shadows of tall trees. The traveler is given two things to insure completion of the journey. The first is an invaluable ancient map, filled with difficult to understand symbols, personal testimonies of others who have traveled the same path many years ago, and what initially seem like esoteric puzzles one must decipher to apply. The second is an ever-present traveling companion who is not like anyone else. This companion is invisible but not imperceptible, civil but completely wild, mute but not quiet, gentle but incontestable. This companion is also conveniently the author of the map, so learning to trust the teaching of the quiet companion is essential for success. The traveler also must pack their own personal resolve because the only sensory encouragement along the trail comes from faint whispers in the wind floating across the treetops, and barely audible echoes calling from distant rock formations. The travel is slow and advancement is made only with intentional times of stillness and reflection. Only by frequent periods of rest, quietness, uninterrupted worship, and waiting for direction can confidence be obtained for travel. Also it is learned that only while sitting or kneeling can one catch glimpses of obscure scarlet ribbons that blaze the trail. These markers are low, sparse, and inconspicuous.  Never more than one can be seen at a time, and often it is found where it is least expected. Spotting one assuages any nagging doubts if you are still on the right path. Therefore, each ribbon is deeply cherished when it is spied. When spotted and verified, each one is received as charismata; an unearned gift, a token symbols of Truth’s love, a new supply of His strength to continue.

I would sit and write and tell you more wonders that I have seen, but I need to get-up and keep traveling myself. I hope you find this note encouraging. As you travel this road, I'm sure you will find everything I have found and much much more.

Bon Voyage