Posted by
Pastor Chuck Zierle on Tuesday, September 19, 2006 7:05:03 PM
The road began to grow long as the sun began to set over the young man's shoulder. His eyes followed the trail as it wound off to the left and dissappeared. With each step, the weight of his back pack grow a little bit weightier and home seemed a bit further away. To the right a felled log invited him to take a moment to rest, but would on,ly serve to ultimately make his journey longer.
As he considered his potential rest-stop, his eyes caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a chimney stack nestled in the woods, off the usual trail.
"No," he thought to himself, "where did that come from?" He moved a few steps off the path to get a clearer view. Unbelievable, but there it was, a cottage! Nothing too shabby, nothing too elaborate, but a cottage. Not your stereo-typical wizards shack, with webs in the windows, and runes engraved on the doorway. Niether was it brightly painted in the Mother Goose style as the cottage of some fairy-godmother luring unsuspecting children to be baked and eaten. No, but it was a cottage.
Without taking his eyes from his new found attraction, the wanderer walked off the road, and with relative ease found his way to the front path. The front of the cottage was as clean and nondescript at its rearview. The small A-Frame building boasted one windowless door and one small window to the left which was framed and had a window box on the base. The window box was graced by a single red rose in full bloom.
The air seemed motionless as he stared.
"What am I doing here?" he asked outload, "I have too get home." More question began to fill his mind as he took in the cottage. He looked to the left of the property and there was a mail box, filled with maill. The letters, "JER.29:11" were engraved on the box. The filled mail box meant one thing. The reident was not yet home, and by all reason, should be any moment.
"I had better get home" he sighed, making his way back to the road. As he continued hi journey home, questions continued to come to his mind. The most pressing was, "Where did that come from? I have been walking this way for the past two years, and have never seen that cottage before. Where did it comefrom? Have I been in such a hurry that I just never noticed? Hmmmm!"
His questions began to fade as he turned the corner to his own block. Up the block on the left, he could see his home - 325 Green Lane - the front door open and awaiting him. What would he face as he came in the door. Almost immediately the thought or memory of the cottage began to fade from his consciousness- there were more presing issues coming his way. But, where did that cottage come from?