I'd never met anyone like her.

Bold, confident, athletic. All the qualities I'd wanted myself, but never had.

My new friend fascinated me.

We spent countless hours together. Many conversations took place over dinner while we watched basketball on ESPN. We'd continue talking late into the evening about sports, relationships and what God was doing in each of our lives.

I was in awe of her character as well as the passion and commitment in her relationship with Jesus.

Though I had other friendships, this one always seemed to take precedence. I actually found myself getting jealous when she spent time with other friends. I expected her to spend time with me and grew possessive of her.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I had placed my friend on a towering pedestal. My identity and self-worth had been found in her, and I felt that I needed her approval for every decision I made.

Often, I sought her counsel before seeking the Lord's.

I had allowed my friend to become an idol in my life, breaking one of God's commandments: "You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below" (Exodus 20:4, New International Version).

When I placed her opinions before the Lord's, I was treating her just like the Israelites did the golden calf after Moses led them out of Egypt.

Just like a sports team, TV show, boyfriend or hobby can become more important than a person's relationship with God, my friend had become my idol.

The revelation of my idolatry devastated me. I admitted this discovery to the Lord, my friend and other women in my life.

Months of tears, difficult conversations and crying both to the Lord and with friends followed.

During this time, God had to change my thought process by showing me that He was the one to be worshipped and adored. That my identity and self-worth were found in Him alone.

Now, the Lord has given me an unexpected gift—a healthy relationship with my friend.

All because I was willing to lay down my idol.

"All of you in the exit rows, I expect you to read the safety manual," said the flight attendant. "When I get back, there's going to be a quiz."

We all chuckled together at the idea that we'd actually be quizzed. Surely she was joking to create camaraderie among her passengers.

Minutes later we discovered the jolting truth.

"The quiz will now begin!" she said.

I sat in horror as the flight attendant pointed at a man two seats away from me. "In case of an emergency, what's the first thing you do?" His answer: wrong. She continued probing with seemingly easy questions. No one answered correctly. The attendant scolded and corrected us, emphasizing that lives were at stake and that we had a responsibility to be prepared.

The Bible also charges Christians to be ready in helping others know Christ. 1 Peter 3:15 says, "Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have" (New International Version). When someone's spiritual life is on the line, we need to be ready to give the right answer.

Criss-crossed sidewalks jutted out in all directions at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. As a firstborn, fairly obedient girl, I would follow the pavement to my advertising classes. (Sometimes walking, sometimes biking and sometimes in a full-out sprint if I was running late.)

But then there was that one dirt path.

You know what I'm talking about. The path that everyone walked, voting with their feet that the administration had missed a landscaping memo. Saying, in essence, I don't like the options you've given me.

My life bears marks of similar well-worn paths.

The paths I walk, I march down, voting with my heart that God missed a memo. Saying, in essence, I don't like the options You've given me. I pursue shortcuts that offer empty promises that I can get where I want to go faster, easier.

Bypassing life-giving minutes in the Bible by jetting out the door. Circumventing boredom by a quick fix at the vending machine. Sidestepping waiting for God's timing by manipulating things in my favor.

But my path-walking tendencies are changing. God beckons me to tread on the firm ground that He's prepared for me. To trust that He knows where I need to go and how best to get me there.

God's grace prompts change in this well-worn-path addict's heart. It's His power in me that provides strength to take the road less traveled.

Green peeks through the dirt.