The Dirt Road

When I lived in Louisana, God blessed me with a wonderful mentor. She was just what I needed for that season of my life. One of the ways she ministered to me was by sharing testimonies of God's faithfulness in her life.

We have kept in touch and one day while we were on the phone she shared with me about a dirt road she used to walk down as a little girl. She told me how she was preparing to teach her Sunday School class and how she was going to use that dirt road as an analogy to her journey as a Christian.

I've never forgot the story, but several months ago I asked her to write it down. She claims she is a better story teller than writer, so she told her son the story and he wrote the following:




The Dirt Road

The road ran just in front of my country home. I was but 8 or 10 years old. And I was always going somewhere. Walking somewhere on that dusty dirt road. On some days I was walking to school in my newest flour sack dress. Some days I was walking to see my beloved Aunt Blanche. And on some days I was walking over to play with my cousins. Some walks were just right over yonder, but most of the time I would walk for a mile or more, quite a stretch for an 8 year old little girl. You might even see me walking back home at dusk, keeping time with clanging cow bells as the cows made their way back from the pasture. That road bent and shaped me, like a hot piece of wrought iron in a blacksmith's shop.

It was wondrous. I daydreamed through the parching dust of a passing produce truck. Sometimes I would stop to pick wildflowers by the roadside, or study a honeybee harvesting nectar to make me some honey with. Early mornings often revealed a covey of wild quail spooked by my noisy journey. And the dusk was teeming with cottontail and wild deer grazing in the meadows along that Louisiana country road. With each passing day, and each journey, I was learning and cherishing the gifts of God. Walking along a dirt road.
There were times when I would stray off the road into the drainage ditch running along the road, playing, and exploring the bustling activities of God's tiniest creations. Occasionally, a thunderstorm would pass, and fill the ditches with water. The muddy water would disguise the hazards of the ditch, yet I would venture on, and end up with battle wounded feet from sharp-edged rocks and the like.

I can remember a time when I wandered into the twilight, traveling with a band of cows making their way to pasture. After a time, when I did not return home at the expected time, my family worried themselves into a panic. But I wasn't worried. I was safe and secure beneath the stars in the company of God.

And as the seasons passed by, I knew that dirt road inside and out, learning to travel with bigger feet and longer legs. And so goes my spiritual journey as I walk in fellowship with God. Sometimes I still wander off "into the ditch", but the Lord shows me the way back to that dirt road, and on some glorious day, that dirt will be paved with gold.

Written by Richard Bissette as told to him by him mom, Carl Deane Bissette
I received this story right before Christmas and what a wonderful Christmas gift it was. I've asked Carl to write some of her testimonies down for me too and she said she would. She has not lived a life free from trouble, but she has lived a life full of HOPE and I HOPE to share more of her testimonies with you soon.