The Wonderful Journey Home

I wrote this a few years ago. In fact there was probably a week straight in hygiene school where I was writing this poem rather than paying attention in most of my classes. The first person I shared it with was the girl sitting next to me that semester. And she is still one of the few I have shared it with. I didn't ever come up with a title that I actually liked. But I liked the poem, so I stopped caring what it was named. Then the other night, I was reading an article in the Ensign, and President Utchdorf said something that completed the thought behind this poem so perfectly for me. It's beautiful. And not to mention, he provided a much better title.

“[Heavenly Father] didn’t send you on this journey only to wander aimlessly on your own. He wants you to come home to Him. He has given you loving parents and faithful Church leaders, along with a map that describes the terrain and identifies the dangers; the map shows you where peace and happiness can be found and will help you plot your course back home. …

“This map is the gospel of Jesus Christ, the good news, and the joyful way of a disciple of Christ. It is the commandments and example given to us by our Advocate and Mentor, who knows the way because He is the way.”

Originally this was called 'My Map'. That always bothered me because it's not quite about the map. Really it's about the journey. A journey that would be impossible without the map. A journey of which we see so little because we get too consumed with what is right in front of us. And it's a journey with eternal impact. One that we don't have to make alone.

Your Wonderful Journey Home

I am not a hiker

And so I think it must be

Whoever made this map,

Thinks hiking's a must for me.

'Cause here I am again

At the bottom of pure height

I barely see the top

As day fades into night.

Up and over, it's clear

Is what I'm meant to do.

But my water's empty, 

And my shoes are wearing through.

If I knew where I was heading

Or how to get where I need

Going up this steep trail,

Is not how I'd proceed.

So it's too bad this map

Is the only one I've got,

It's the diff'rence between

Home, and staying out here lost.

Exhausted I sit down, 

And cradle my tired head. 

It feels like I haven't time

To ever catch my breath.

How can I climb this hill

That seemingly has no end?

Especially with so many aches.

And hunger pangs to mend?

The map, I fear, is wrong

This time, or maybe I've misread.

Despairingly I close my eyes

And hang my hands and head.

I think of all I've done

Since starting along this trail

Never has it felt so real

That quite possibly, I'll fail.

If only I had some food, 

A drink, more time just to rest, 

I'd have a little more to give

But I've already giv'n my best.

Tears, the only option left to me

Fill my burning eyes.

And no one is around to hear

My hopeless, heartfelt cries. 

I'll never make it there.

I still have to far too go.

Sitting here I let my heart

With all its fears unload.

Somewhere in the midst of this

Between my sobbing heaves,

My yellow, trail-beat map

Starts flapping with the breeze.

Reaching down I pick it up,

I can't let it blow away.

I know I'm going to need it

To make it through today.

I trace my finger o'er the route

It's taken me along, and

Scary as this journey's been,

It's never lead me wrong.

It takes a bit to clear my head

And think a little better.

Though still fresh, my tears start drying

As I pull myself together.

Remembering other times

When I've been brought this low,

As I followed the map I got

To where I never thought I'd go.

And so I guess, I'll trust,  

Once more the way it points.

I just wish it'd be easier

To move my stiffened joints.

With new resolve I fold the map

And hold it in my hand.

Looking back I'll never know

Where I found the strength to stand.

I pick my backpack off the ground,

So resumes my hike.

I can't allow myself to think

It'll still be harder than I'd like.

I take a breath, then a step

That's one step less to go.

Just how many more are left

Only the Mountain knows.

I'm still not a hiker.

And so it seems to me,

Whoever wrote this map

Is teaching me to be.

Anything worth doing gets harder before it gets easier. At least it has been with anything I have ever done. I can't count the times I've wanted to give up, when I've felt too overwhelmed to even want to try. And I know I haven't experienced the last time I will ever feel that way. But God didn't send me here to fail. He sent His Son to show the way, to redeem me from my sins, and make it possible for me to make it Home. This journey is long and exhausting and painful. And it's wonderful and marvelous and too short. But without the mountains, I don't think I'd appreciate the map.

I'm so grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ. I know it is true. In it I find strength when I thought I had none left. He helps me get to where I never imagined I could every time. I'm so grateful for the knowledge of who I am, and who I will become as I follow Him. The purpose of life is not suffering, it is refining. He can change us into who He wants us to be through the mountains of mortal life. All it takes is the faith to go on; one step at a time.