The Fork on the Appalachian Trail

In 2019, a hiker named Martin Strel stood at a junction on the Appalachian Trail near Harper's Ferry, West Virginia. One path led north along the well-blazed white markers — the route that thousands of thru-hikers had followed to Mount Katahdin. The other veered east down an unmarked spur trail that looked easier, more shaded, and frankly more inviting on a sweltering July afternoon. A seasoned ranger at the trailhead had warned him plainly: "The unmarked path drops into a ravine with no water source for eleven miles. People get lost down there every summer."

Martin knew the facts. He had the map. He had the warning. He chose the unmarked trail anyway.

Search and Rescue found him two days later, dehydrated and disoriented, less than three miles from where he started.

Moses stood before Israel at their own fork in the trail. He did not mince words. "I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life." God was not hiding the blazes or obscuring the map. The path was marked. The warning was plain. The choice was laid bare with stunning clarity.

Every Sunday morning, every Tuesday afternoon, every ordinary Thursday evening, you and I stand at that same junction. The Almighty does not ask us to guess which way leads home. He tells us. He pleads with us. He sets the two roads side by side and says, "Choose life, that you and your children may live."

The only question is whether we will listen to the Ranger — or wander into the ravine.