Up on the big hill near my house, the city purchased a few dozen acres from a developer to turn the area into a public park, rather than the 78 unit suburban housing slots for which it was otherwise destined. I always liked making my way up along the narrow paths cutting through the trees, even though overgrown with ferns, brambles, etc. to the old road along the top.
One apparent concession in the revised plan for the area involved the building of a very large dwelling near the bottom of the hill, but away from view of any nearby cross-street. This residence took nearly a year and a half to completion and I wondered often who would be living there. I also wondered whether the short-cut I took through the woods up to our now new park land crossed over the property line of the new resident.
My answer came one day as I began across an old single plank footbridge over a small creek. I noticed someone working on the dilapidated shed about 40 yards away. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked. "Up the trail up the hill." I responded. "That's my property." he said, then paused and added, "Have you been going that way a long time?"
When I assured him that I had, he informed me that the large residence was part of an organization he ran for at risk and wayward youth, as part of their training and transition. I said I had been wondering about this house, and the size for the location.
He said that he was just concerned about liability and that I could continue to use the path across the land at my own risk and so long as I would do him the favor of thinking about one question. I nodded, thanks. He said the question is, "What would you say to Him, if you met Jesus tomorrow?" I smiled and proceeded along my way and have never walked that route again.
No offense meant, Jesus. Maybe that's what I'd say, but more truthfully I don't go that way any longer because I'm not sure what I'd say to that guy.
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