By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

There is something to be said for consistency.

Cattle drives of the 1800s followed the same trails north time after time on their way to the railheads.

I live near one of them, the famous Goodnight-Loving Trail. A hundred and fifty years ago, I would probably have been smack-dab in the middle of it. It doesn’t take much to imagine the gritty dust or clacking hooves and horns as the cattle milled.

So why did cowboys trail thousands of cattle over the same route year and year?

Because they knew those ways were dependable, what threats might be posed and conquered, and where ample provisions could be found.

God tells us the same thing about life. He shows us the right paths to take and why. We may want to veer off course, yet when we do, we leave safety and provision behind. We meet obstacles hard to conquer on our own.

Sometimes it’s hard to stay on track, but wisdom says it’s worth it. The more consistent we are in our daily walk, the more successful our journey becomes.

Here are a few ways we can be certain we’re on the right path:

Trail Markers

Fix on the North Star.

Get your biblical bearings every day. If you don’t know where to start, begin by reading Psalms or the book of John. Proverbs is full of wisdom and so is James. Read a chapter or section daily.

Check in with the Boss.

Pray. Don’t do all the talking. Yes, lay your heart and needs before Him, but also listen to what God has to say. Remember, He speaks quietly because He’s that close.

Join the campfire. 

Don’t be the Lone Ranger. Hang out with Christian friends—Jesus followers. They’re on the same trail and will be an encouragement to you. They’ll also be there to help if you get a burr under your saddle or your horse comes up lame.

Don’t poison the water.

Choose wisely what you watch, read, and listen to. Don’t cancel out the good of God’s word with questionable or vile viewing. Bypass the locoweed, wild iris, and lupine.

Repetition is key. Doing the right thing over and over creates a habit, builds spiritual-muscle memory, and strengthens us to survive rattlers and other varmints.

~

Ponder the path of your feet,
and let all your ways be established.
Do not turn to the right or the left;
remove your foot from evil.
Proverbs 4:26-27

Turn away my eyes from
looking at worthless things,
and revive me in Your way.
Psalm 119:37

Do not be deceived:
“Evil company corrupts good habits.”
1 Corinthians 15:33

Therefore, since we are surrounded
by such a great cloud of witnesses,
let us throw off everything that hinders
and the sin that so easily entangles.
And let us run with perseverance the
race marked out for us.
Hebrews 12:1

Corra Jameson’s feet tingled. She paused midstroke in her sweeping and looked toward the open front door. A growing vibration worked its way into the soles of her shoes, and teardrop crystals on the hallway lamp trembled. She leaned the broom against the kitchen table and went to investigate.

Like a wasp buzzing down the hall, her niece flew by and out the screen door. Hard on the girl’s heels, Corra yanked her back from the narrow yard fronting Main Street—now a bellowing river of cattle.

Horns clacked together and dust churned, coating Corra’s lips. Two young outriders, one on either side, flanked the mass. Corra pressed Alicia against her skirts, the girl’s excitement pulsing beneath her hands.

“I saw them coming from my window upstairs.” Quite an event for an eight-year-old. Not much happened in Ford Junction, other than the arrival of trains, stages, and wagons for church socials. Certainly not a cattle drive through the heart of town—if a small store, depot, and boardinghouse could be called a town.

But Corra’s pulse beat as rapidly as the girl’s. She’d never seen the like, though tales of wild cowboys and life in the West were half the reason she’d come to Colorado. The other half propped up the porch upon which she stood—Baxter’s Boardinghouse. The only meal and bed at this juncture of the Denver and Rio Grande and the Texas Creek stage road.

She tightened her grip on Alicia’s shoulders and craned her neck for sight of the end. A dirty red dog and a third cowboy followed the herd. From the back of his dark horse, he appeared to command the whole procession, eyes roving over the cattle, flitting from side to side until they locked with Corra’s. She could not look away. ~The Wrangler’s Woman

Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.

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