What can be worse than travelling alone, just to hear the snapping and rustling of the bushes along your path as you walk into nightfall? What is it that is moving through those bushes, keeping pace with you? What was that growling noise -- was it some creature or just your stomach? What was it that startled the crickets into silence?

You think about some video you recently saw, where the members of a band yell "Christmas" as they travel through a Central New York town looking for that December holiday. They were four and they had each other to help along that short journey, to find what they were seeking. But, each one individually has a journey that he has been appointed by God to undertake, although each can rely on the other when their backpacks become too burdensome and the rustling of the bushes seems too close. These four are friends and brothers.

No one wants to travel on this journey solo, even when they claim that they just want to be left alone. Everyone desires a friend or two or four to walk and talk with while putting the feet, yards, and miles behind them as they carry on and carry forward. Each of us needs someone to take in the scenery with; even when that scenery is less than captivating. After all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, isn't it? And, aren't we each beautiful in our own way, just as God made us? No matter how macho a man or how feminine a woman you may be, you still want someone to tell you that you are beautiful and that you are loved. What you do not want and what you inwardly fear is that you'll have to finish this journey on your own -- feeling alone, rejected and vulnerable.

Indeed, you fear being alone on that path, burdened by the weight of your pack, not being able to muster the foot speed to outrun what is rustling through the brush; making its way toward you. It turned out that your friends were just drinking buddies. They were there when the good times were flowing on a sudsy 2 for 1 stream, but now that there is fear and insecurity to combat, where are those so-called friends? Now that you don't know who or what you are, who is there to validate you? You cry out "who is in those bushes!?" You want to run, but your legs are like those belonging to Gumby.

Fear is gripping your heart but you are denying it. You've survived up to this day by denying that you are in denial. Denial has been your modus operandi since you turned left off of Jump Street to begin trekking down this path. Denial isn't going to keep you safe anymore. Your day of reckoning has been dropped on you like a Steinway piano from the sky, with a dissonant clang that will not allow you to hear the whispers of your pretty self-delusion.

Gavin never called again. Goodtime Charlie was a con-artist trained by the king of con-artists. Dammit, you need something real! And what is in those bushes is about to leap on you...

Your eyes are drawn back to the path, and you see people up ahead of you. They turn to see you and wave their arms to beckon you forward. The wolf's poorly timed leap from the bushes brings him down on his chest -- making him angrier and more determined.

You sense that those who are ahead are real friends. They are friends that will love on you and when they tell you that you're beautiful, they will truly mean it -- because you are loved and you are beautiful. There are friends ahead that are now turning and walking back toward you. One fellow asks "can I help you carry that backpack" while you reply "but you've got one of your own." "That's alright" he says, "I have help carrying mine, and we will help you to carry yours. You shouldn't be walking alone this close to nightfall. Come walk with us. This is a fantastic and phantasmagorical journey, but it is also dangerous."

"We found Christmas" a guy in an orange knit hat says, "and it wasn't in the Dollar Tree store." You are confused by his proclamation, but the sincerity in his eyes assures you that it must be true.

"Look ahead" orange knit hat guy says. "That's where we are headed. It's no Land of Oz, and this is not a yellow brick road. Who we are off to see is no wizard, but He is the King. He is the Lion who became the Lamb."

"There's no place like home" the youngest of these four men says. He is young, but his wisdom gained exceeds his years. "Ain't that the truth" chuckles a kindly fellow in a brown leather jacket and cowboy hat. "You have just got to come with us" this fellow says enthusiastically, and you're thinking that walking on with them is a safe place to be. The fourth man, who is sporting a blue Indianapolis Colts hoodie, says nothing but instead places his hand on your shoulder and gestures with his head that you should walk on.

It is getting colder as the sun drops below the western horizon. "Ladies and Gentlemen, we're not in Bridgeport anymore" the enthusiastic fellow in the brown leather jacket states. The guy in the orange knit hat follows with "it's dark now, but we walk by faith and not by sight and we've got to get moving." He turns and looks at you, and his eyes are serious. People have told him that he has crazy eyes. Others have said that his eyes have a way of drawing one's attention. What you see in the fading light are tired but determined eyes that are sincere. You see eyes that reflect a caring soul. And, if it that old expression "the eyes are the gateway to the soul" rings with any truth, the soul of this guy with the orange knit hat is owned by the one and only creator who is beautiful, all-powerful, omniscient, and fully in control. Like you, orange knit hat guy has been crushed with disappointment. Like you, orange knit hat guy has had his mortal world rocked by falling pianos. Like you, orange knit hat guy has done and continues to do things that are despicable. Like you, the wolves have been tailing him on his journey, hoping to catch and devour him. But, the wolves cannot devour orange knit hat guy, they can only scratch at his door and peel off the paint. Orange knit hat guy has an eternal hedge of protection, as do his three friends.

"The hour is late and we need to walk, and others will join us. This path is narrow, but it is the only way" spoke the orange knit hat guy as he zipped his black ski jacket all the way to the top of the collar. "We're not supposed to be out here after dark, but that's a moot point now. Let's put some miles behind us and keep our eyes and ears open" he said.

Orange knit hat guy's words "the path is narrow, but it is the only way" remind you of something that you heard in Sunday School as a child. This whole event is becoming bizarre, you are thinking. You're starting to feel like you have been inserted into some kind of sci-fi story and yet your level of consciousness and sobriety convinces you that whatever is transpiring on this path that you're walking is going down in real time. What is this "not being out here after dark" stuff supposed to mean anyway? We're all adults here, right? And, who are these "others?" Additionally, there is another burning question that you have yet to verbalize: Where are you and how did you get there!? This entire event began as a simple walk that maybe went a bit too far.

Continue on to Part 2