The Ruts We Leave Behind

By Richie Brower

UCC youth, young adults, & club ministries associate director

It was the first real snow of the season at the Rusty Wagon Farm. That meant more than four inches of snow had fallen. The wind on this day was strong enough to whip it horizontally over the fields creating snow drifts. 

Rusty Wagon Farm is the only farmstead on a five-mile stretch of gravel road, meaning we are rarely visited by snowplows. The shortest route to pavement is more than a mile away. But the road is often the first to drift shut. The next shortest path to a county road is two miles – but that route is a sure-fire way to get stuck once the drifts begin to grow. The remaining path out of the farm is three miles of winding gravel road. It’s the regular route to school and church, but the direction the wind blows the snow makes all the difference in whether this road is open enough for vehicles to get through. 

The last seven winters, our morning routine has been to wake up early and check the wind and snowfall to see if a scouting mission is required before the family heads out for school and work. 

If drifts are forming, I bundle up, load my winter emergency gear, and jump in our four-wheel drive to see if the roads are passable. It’s important to scout before the sun comes up. Once it’s light outside, depth perception becomes a challenge and it’s easy to get stuck before you even know there’s a drift. 

That day marked the first scouting mission of the winter. But this time my mission was different. This day, the question was not whether I could get us out, but rather I was driving to see if my son would be able to safely navigate the road after me. Before I reached the end of the driveway, I knew his car couldn’t handle the snow. So immediately the three-mile drive became an exploration to see if he would be safe driving the Subaru. 

The snow was wet and heavy. The kind that grabs your car and moves it against your will. Even our 4X4 truck was tossed around a little. My initial thought was to council my son to “choose your ruts wisely.” I came around a corner to discover the heavy snow had dropped a dead tree across the road. After moving the tree and cleaning up the debris, I continued the climb out of the canyon and up onto the plateau where the worst of the drifts would be waiting if there were any. As I drove, the idea of my son following me in a short while continued to play in my mind. “Choose your ruts wisely.” 

And then it hit me. My job this morning was more than evaluating the road was passable, I was creating the ruts that I hoped would keep him safe. I was inviting him to follow my path. 

“Take the same path I’ve taken son, and you’ll be just fine.” 

Paul the apostle had this same insight but worded it a little differently. He said, “And you should imitate me, just as I imitate Christ.”1 Corinthians 11:1. 

As Christians we are essentially saying the same thing to those around us. “Follow my example as I follow Christ.” 

You can be sure I drove with more intentionality when I realized that my gift to my son was tied up in the ruts I would leave for him. “Drive where you want him to follow.”