Labyrinths have always been sacred space to me, whether I’m walking the path in silence or to quiet music, alone or with fellow travelers, seeking an answer to a challenging question or simply seeking a deeper connection with God. Walking the labyrinth takes me deep into a place of inner stillness, as it has for countless seekers down through the ages. As I walk, I feel connected, not only to God and to my own soul, not only to those walking beside me, but also to those who have walked in probably every continent across untold centuries. For me, a labyrinth is a physically small space that opens up into indescribable vastness.
Labyrinths are unicursal, meaning there is only one path in to the center, and that same path is also the only route back out. Unlike mazes, that are designed to trick the walker into getting lost time after time, labyrinths are actually designed to facilitate the walker getting “found”. The center of the labyrinth represents God.
Theoretically, one cannot get lost on a labyrinth; one simply follows the path in, at whatever pace and in whatever manner one chooses, and then, when ready, follows the same path out. And yet, people do get lost. And that, too, is part of getting found. For on the labyrinth, everything becomes metaphor, for those so inclined.
On this particular day, I entered the labyrinth with a question that had been haunting me for a long time: was I to end my relationship or to remain in it? I was torn, for though my inner voice seemed to tell me loud and clear to leave, loyalty made me question and resist what I was hearing. I had felt torn for some time between loyalty to my partner and my longing to draw closer to God. I kept questioning, did the two have to be in conflict? Wasn’t there another way?
This was the question with which I began my labyrinth walk that day. In a matter of minutes, I was startled to find myself walking out, having never even come close to the center! I laughed nervously, and without actually leaving the labyrinth, turned around and headed back in.
This time I kept my eyes locked on my feet as I took each step, making sure that I wasn’t straying across lines, and thus potentially changing directions. In very short order, I again saw that I was about to walk OUT of the labyrinth! This was virtually impossible. I stood stock still, stunned. And I listened. What I heard was, “Sometimes you have to go all the way out before you can reach the center.”
I had my answer, in a way that I couldn’t question. I walked all the way out of the labyrinth this time, and turned to face the entrance. Letting God know that I had heard, that I knew that I would not be able to draw closer to God until I had left this relationship, I again began to walk in. I reached the center without a hitch.
I followed through on what my inner voice had been telling me for some time, knowing that I could trust it, no matter what my loyalty said. And I’ve never regretted it. 
— Laurie Hoff Schaad