I headed out for a long walk through the winter woods
yesterday. The paths here are groomed and easy to follow as they wind through
the now bare birch and the evergreens which give the only color against the
deep blue of sky. As I laced up my boots and put on my heavy coat, I also
followed the directions taped to the door:”Remember to wear your orange vest
when leaving your hermitage!” I reached for the blaze orange which would make
me visible to any hunters that may still be out. Though the season is over, so
I was told, there are still some who might be about. Putting aside any fashion
sense, I zipped up this big, bright vest and began my silent walk.

 The path led me past fallen trees that had been arranged to
make the path more visible. I thought of how lovely it would be with more snow
to offer the contrast to the pines and birch. As I walked I was aware of how
conspicuous I felt. It was like I was shouting “Look at me! Look at me!” It had
not been my intention when I planned this woodland walk. I had wanted, instead,
to become a part of the woods, to become aware of my part of the fabric of the
forest. But my vest made me ‘other’. There was no mistaking that an alien was
present in the natural landscape. While I was safe, I also felt sad to not have
blended into and become part of the beauty of the woods, of the earth.

 Walking out of the woods, I made my way to the open field
where people had built a rock and prairie grass labyrinth for walking prayer.
An ornamental archway marks the opening of the labyrinth. Attached to the
archway hangs a small brass pine-cone bell. I gently rang it to signal my
entrance. I began my slow, meditative walk offering prayers for family,
friends, the work my colleagues and I were doing here at the retreat center. I
reached the center of the labyrinth and the small pile of stones where people
had left smaller stones, a charm with an angel imprinted a coin with John 3:16
printed on it, visible talismans of their own prayers. Nestled within the
larger stones were pieces of paper. I resisted the impulse to pull them out and
read them believing they were meant for the Holy and not for me. As I stood at
the center of this ancient path, my eyes fell on the brightness of my vest. At
first I wanted to laugh….walking the labyrinth in blaze orange!  It seemed so silly.

 And yet what my heart wanted was for my prayers, for my
walk, for my living, to be noticed by the One who holds me gently in this life’s path.
And in that spirit, blaze orange seemed the perfect attire.

“O God, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and
when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away. You search out my path
and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is
on my tongue, you know it completely. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay
your hand upon me.” Psalm 139