Twelve years ago, I read a blog post titled “Trailblazer”. There aren’t many pieces of writing I can remember in great detail from over a decade ago, but this one struck a chord. Like a small seed planted in the ground and watered over time, its roots have gone out and made themselves at home in the soil of my life.

Seasons have changed and years have passed, but to this day I remember the message and encouragement in Annie’s 2012 (in)courage article.

“You’re blazing a trail with your life for the younger women behind you,” Annie F. Downs said. “They will have their own overgrowth to challenge them, and they will lead the way for others. But for today, would you be intentional about cutting back as much brush as you can? Because you are making a way for them, saving them some pain that your bloodied arms prove is real, and honoring their footsteps by providing a clear path. Someone is watching. May they learn to blaze with integrity, honesty, faith, and heart.”

Annie wasn’t talking about me specifically, but there’s no doubt about it: In many ways, I’m one of the women walking the trail she helped clear.

Her words came to mind recently as I read 1 Chronicles 22.

At the beginning of the chapter, we see King David intentionally gathering materials to build the temple for the LORD. But just a few verses later, we learn that he’s actually making preparations for those who will come behind him. Instead of becoming bitter or angry when God said “no” to David building the temple, when he learned that his own son would be the one to do so, David responded by “making extensive preparations before his death” (1 Chronicles 22:5b NIV).

Verse after verse outlines the materials purchased and “craftsmen beyond number” that David purposely prepared so that when Solomon was ready to do what David himself longed to do, the path would be cleared in advance. In other words, David spent his days blazing a trail and opening doors for the next generation.

At the very end of 1 Chronicles 22, instead of grumbling over the “no” he received or becoming frustrated by the years dedicated to something he wouldn’t see to fruition, David speaks a blessing over Solomon’s work, life, and legacy.

Like track and field runners passing the baton in a relay, he gave everything he had for the one coming behind and then said, essentially, “It’s your turn, and I bless you as you go.”

I’ll admit, as I sat with this passage of Scripture, I was humbled and challenged by three questions.

• How do I react when someone else receives the “yes” I long for?
• What path can I intentionally clear for someone else?
• What doors can I open for another, even if I never walk through them myself?

This doesn’t make receiving a “no” easy, and it certainly doesn’t mean we can’t talk to God about our grief, confusion, or disappointment. After all, nearly half of the Psalms written by King David are psalms of lament. But maybe, just maybe, there’s an unexpected gift tucked into every “no,” an invitation into a larger story, a baton to pass, or a trail to clear.

While writing this, I went back to re-read Annie’s words from July 2012 and gasped halfway through. In it, she mentioned being 31-years-old. It’s a minor detail, except that it’s now July 2024 and I’m a 31-year-old woman who is amazed yet again by the God who sees the whole story and yet still cares about the smallest of details.

He’s the One who cleared the ultimate path, who opened every door, who walks with us every step of every trail . . . but knows the tiny things we’ll notice, like breadcrumbs of manna along the way, a gentle reminder that He’s been right there all along and will guide us all the way Home.

Sometimes those breadcrumbs look like someone just up ahead saying “I’ve been this way before. Let’s walk together.” Sometimes the metaphorical door is opened before we raise our hand to knock, the key left in the lock. Sometimes the words or work of another seem small or even ordinary in the moment, but turn out to be exactly what is needed years later, like the materials David prepared in advance.

It can look one hundred different ways, but always, the One who is the Way and made the Way provides what and who we need each step of the way. And then He invites us to pass along what we’ve received, to push back the brush as we keep our eyes on Him.

Not everything is ours to do, but may it be said of us that even when we receive a “no,” we bless the ones coming behind.

May we be women who choose to celebrate instead of compete, who cheer instead of compare, who live and lead and love well. May we trust that there’s kindness and an invitation even in the “no,” and may we, as Paul says in Hebrews 12, run the race that’s set out specifically for us. May we give thanks for those who came before and may we pass the baton when it’s time.

May we walk with “integrity, honesty, faith, and heart.”

Amen.

If you’d like a little extra encouragement, whether you feel like you’re blazing a trail or limping along, join me over on Instagram… let’s walk together, looking for God’s goodness in the ordinary and His faithfulness in the difficult.

Listen to today’s devotion below or wherever you stream podcasts.

Leave a Comment