The Path

Back in March I wrote “Woman at the Well”, the story of how Penny Flaro met Jesus through the ministry of one of our churches.  I want to tell more of these “good news” stories because there is so much encouraging, good, God glorifying stuff happening in our movement that should be told.

If you have a story about someone meeting Jesus through the ministry of one of our churches I would love to hear from you.  Contact me at [email protected]

For now I leave you with my good news story and what I wrote four years ago for my baptism.

The Path – by Alison McKinnon

I have been walking this path for a long time.  It leads me through valleys and mountains, rivers and deserts, forests and fields but what I long for is a light to guide my way.


Without a light I do not see the dangers lurking along the edges of the path and I am uncertain which way to turn when there are forks in the path.  I feel lost and alone in the darkness.  I need a light to save me.

I call out – asking, begging, pleading for a light.  I am overwhelmed on this path alone.  I cannot make it on my own.

Then one day I meet a man on the path.  He is so beautiful.  He has a light.  We travel together for a long time just walking and talking and then we decide to walk along side each other forever.  He will light my way.

As we continue along the path we meet many people with lights.  Some have bright flashlights held boldly in front of them while others have small lanterns modestly concealed.  I ask these strangers where they found their lights.  Some tell of it suddenly appearing on the path in front of them, others speak of searching the path for years before finding it and some cannot remember when they found it just that it was always there.

One night we are walking along the path and I trip and fall.  I realize that I cannot use the light of my beautiful man.  It is his not mine.  It lights his way not mine.  I must find my own.  My search resumes.

Some of the people I meet along the path suggest different things to help me find a light.  I put many of these things into practice and at times I think I see glimmers of light but I am not certain.

Early one morning I wake to the sound of laughter.  I walk towards the sound.  I see a couple standing on the path illuminated from the inside out.  They do not offer to light my way but they do offer to walk beside me and help in my search.

My dreams are filled with light but then I awake again in darkness and I ask, beg, plead for this loneliness to end.   My friends tell me that there is nothing more to do but wait.  This is difficult to understand and hard to accept.  I wait.


One night I am walking and I fall down a very deep dark hole.  I fall for a long time and when I hit bottom I shatter into tiny pieces.  I lay broken in this hole for many days.  The darkness devours me.  I do not know when the numbness in my body begins to disappear.  I do not know when my pieces get put back together.  I do not know the source of a dim light that now surrounds me.  I do know that one morning I am able to stand up, step out of the hole and continue on the path.

The light remains slowly growing stronger and brighter.  I still do not know its source but here it is. Every morning I wake wondering if the light will still be here and it is.  I am so thankful.

One morning I stop at the edge of a lake.  The water is deep blue and the surface like glass.  As I look out over the water a pure white light blinds me.  I search the horizon for the source but I don’t see anything.  Then I look down at my reflection.  I am the source of the light.  The light is in me.  I am filled with joy and gratitude.  I am saved.

I look back at my circle of friends who have gathered with me and smile.  Then I step into the water.