What do the Dark Side, Open Shortest Path First and Psalm 119:105 all have in common?

To put it bluntly, I have been almost pathologically pondering paths.

Well, perhaps my desire to use alliteration and the word “pathological” makes that sound more extreme than it actually was, but let me semi-prove my point. A brief glimpse into Jen’s mind: Path. Paths. Follow the path. “You’re going down a path I can’t follow.” We all have paths we follow. Open Shortest Path First.  

Suffice it to say, if I had followed that original thought process, I would now be discussing either Anakin’s path to the Dark Side or Open Shortest Path First internet routing protocol. But I’m not, so rest easy.


Instead, my thoughts turned elsewhere: Path. Paths. Follow the path. We all have paths we follow… “Your word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”

Psalm 119:105 is one of those Bible verses that is so well-known, it becomes almost commonplace. I’ll be honest, I almost passed over it to focus on another thought. But then, I stopped.

Google, what is a path?

Google: A way or track laid down for walking or made by continual treading.

Continual treading. Those words intrigued me and prompted me to write the following words: A path indicates presence.

A path suggests that someone or something else has previously been in that same place.

Life snowflakes, we humans are unique. Our lives are unique. Yes, we can make similar choices and decisions, but our paths are all different. We have different experiences. You follow your path, and I follow my path.

“Your word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”

If no one else has journeyed on my life’s path, how then can it be considered an actual path — if we consider Google’s definition and continual treading? If only I can follow my life’s path, then who or what has been there before me to create that path?

Let me turn your attention to the subject of Psalm 119:105 — word. More specifically, God’s word. How can God’s word be present to shine on our path? To answer that, I refer you to John 1:1 — “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

God is the one who went before us, treading our paths. He prepared the paths that will lead us to the people we meet and the places we go. He even lights the way for us.

Will we choose to follow that path?


How writer’s block and an old poem resulted in thoughts on trust

I’ll be honest here: I was having a brain fart. Or a writer’s block. Or something.

So, I put on my music and considered writing a poem instead. But when opening Word, I glimpsed a poem I wrote on December 20, 2016. I opened “The musical river” and read it. Reading that spawned another idea, which led me to my blog and prompted me to write the following words: “I’m still not quite sure how I want to get a point across. So for now, I have another exercise.”

Well, let me just take it from there, because my writer’s block went away.

If you would, go to iTunes or Spotify or YouTube and pick your favorite song to listen to. And I mean, a song that really, really gets you — every single time you listen to it. (If you’re at a loss for a song, here’s one from The Piano Guys.)

Now, lose yourself… in the music, the moment…


The musical river

One musical note
doesn’t seem like much —
as a single drop of water
doesn’t amount to much.

Perhaps this note is a B flat
or a C sharp —
and perhaps this drop of water
falls from the faucet
or drops from the sky.

On its own,
that one musical note
seems lonely and without context —
and the drop of water
seems small and insignificant.

But when that one tone
is followed by other individual tones —
and when that drop of water
is joined by more beads of water —

together they define a new creation.

The musical notes
support each other,
lead each other,
pushing forward with a sense
of purpose and perseverance —
as the drops of water
join together to become
a single entity
that flows with elegant determination,
until, at last,

the end of a new masterpiece.


I’ve been thinking a lot about trust recently. In fact, I’ve been thinking about trust for the past couple of months. And when I thought of trust, my thoughts turned to trust falls. I’m sure you all know what a trust fall is, but just in case:

Trust is scary. That moment you choose to let yourself fall is a moment when you place complete control into the hands of someone else. You trust that person to ignore surrounding distractions and catch you, support you.

So, these thoughts were lingering in my mind, when I turned on my music and read this poem again. That’s when the following thoughts passed through my mind: Each musical note does a trust fall into the next one. Without the next note to catch the one before it, the music ceases to be.

The musical notes in your favorite song rely on each other to create the final outcome. Without that trust, their existence and ultimate purpose would be undetermined and meaningless.

I’ll let you ruminate on that thought for a bit.