Sometimes It's the Road
Have you ever been down a road that was new and untraveled? Ever driven down the winding path to the unknown? Bounced between indecision to indecision?
That’s where I found myself. On new and untraveled roads. Short and hard to turn-around in driveways. Making up and then changing my mind. New house searching, in new cities just two weeks before our oldest boys would need to enroll in their new school . . . whichever one it would end up being, we still didn’t know. We just knew if there was going to be new and unfamiliar faces, it would be best to get them started in along with the other children.
What would provoke such vast turnaround times in up and moving? That would be our other new and untraveled road. My husband and I had found out that we are expecting our fourth child . . . but expecting was hardly the word for it. We certainly weren’t expecting a baby . . . but ready or not, we were going to have one.
We were happy with the size of our family. So we saw no need for maternity insurance, no need for an extra bedroom or putting away a little cash for a rainy day. It just wasn’t in our plans . . . but as we all know too well, our plans are not always Heaven’s.
This new found surprise brings me to the endless drives for a new nest big enough for our growing brood. Our old place, though nice and comfy, was barely big enough to fit the kid’s Chia Pet their grandmother gave them in the spring, much less a living, breathing, crying, pooping baby. Our boys were already sharing a room, my daughter’s things spilling from her tiny closet; there just wasn’t any way we were going to be able to fit in this small space, unless we were magically transformed into sardines.
As we drove away from the nest, I began to think of first steps made down the hall, the way my husband had to squeeze up against the narrow walls to let me by for bathroom breaks when I was very, very pregnant with our daughter, my office that doubled as a playroom and the little work that went on in there. Yes. It was a small house . . . but it was our house.
Each turn we took away from that house was harder to make and as we walked in homes one by one, passed new schools and talked about our ever increasing bills, bills, bills . . . it hit me. Everything is about to change. This new road we were on was going to bring a series of curves we never saw coming. There would be heavy budgeting around the baby, schedules would be drastically altered. There would be things we would have to go without just like when we first got married. It was like starting over again . . . all over again.
Just when my nerves were at their highest point and my morning sickness at its worst I looked down as we stopped at a red light and painted on the blacktop of this new road we traveled was a tiny cross with three “greater than” marks that we learned about in grammar school gracing it’s side. I’m not sure if the sign had actual road side meaning or if it was simply a sign painted on a whim by a very smart DOT worker but on the road of my life anyway, it sent me just the message that I needed at that very moment.
I’ve been through enough in my life to know that there’s nothing greater than the cross but sometimes I need a reminder. I want to pass my reminder on to you like some other unknown person who brought a heavenly reminder from a Jesus who is always right on time.
While the road may bring you problems, sometimes it’s the road that brings you answers. Sometimes it’s the curves we hug, the taillights we leave shining on what we knew so well that takes us to places we’ve never dreamed.
In "> Jesus tells us to “take up our cross” and follow Him. And while we can’t be sure what’s at the end of our path, we can be sure that He’s paved the way and He’s gone before us to the heart of the unknown to make the “crooked places straight”. ().
As you start the day today and embark upon your own new journeys, I hope you’ll join me on the untraveled road knowing that as we ride through the paths of the unexpected, when God’s driving the car we can expect nothing but the best.
Copyright © Brooke Keith. Used by permission.
About The Author
