Melissa and I along with our four year old, Emilee, took a few hours out last night to take a "Sunday afternoon drive" on a Thursday. I haven't taken time out to smell the aroma of the world for quite some time. I used to love to head out in the car, sometimes no destination in mind, and see what the world had to offer.
Last night our destination was unknown as well. We started down the highway, wind blowing through the windows and sunroof, hair blazing back like a crazy mane. Life was good. We stopped by an area known as Silvermines, took a walk down by the river and up the trails, and then hopped back in the car for a trip down a road less traveled - a gravel road. Not knowing where we might end up, this gravel road eventually landed us in a small community about 20 miles from here. We slowly meandered back to good ole' Fredericktown at mostly, might I add, the speed limit or under. Yes, you caught that right...I actually drove the speed limit! I haven't driven that slow in...I can't even remember when!
There are really three things that keep us from enjoying the journey of life:
(1) We're too busy. Life is always a race and we're determined to finish first. Tunnel vision ensues and life passes all too quickly.It's a huge challenge to break out of the race of life. Sometimes it's important to take a small detour, even if only for a moment, and expand your lungs with the freshness of what God has to offer. He always provides, if we'll only break free from our own thoughts and desires to enjoy His sweetness.
(2) Distractions. We might start the journey, but for some reason we get distracted. Other passengers on the journey aren't going fast enough, we get frustrated, and ultimately we're distracted onto another more traveled path.
(3) It's not important. We have become intent and CONTENT on living life at a fast pace. Everyone expects us to accomplish certain things, to live a certain life, and to pass through as society deems appropriate. Simply put, it's not that important for us to live life like no one else dreamed possible. We're satisfied in an unhealthy way.
May you choose the road less traveled.
|I shall be telling this with a sigh|
|Somewhere ages and ages hence:|
|Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—|
|I took the one less traveled by,|
|And that has made all the difference.|
~Robert Frost (1874–1963)