paths

It thundered this morning. I heard it and couldn’t make sense of it for many moments. Snow is coming down like it’s just days before Christmas or something and there it was, that rumbling, like a bowling ball across hardwood floors. This is both eerie and magical, in April. And disturbing and frustrating.

To out-run the majority of the snow, I left our small town last night and drove the two hours to Minneapolis. Or near Minneapolis anyway, to my Aunt’s home in a suburb. This way, if my planned flight doesn’t get canceled on account of all of this snow and wind, I’ll have missed out on driving the two hours today, in really not-so-great conditions.

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That was this morning, now it’s nearing 3pm and I’m at the airport, with the flight delayed. I have to catch a connection in Denver, but maybe I won’t. In all the times I’ve ever flown, I’ve never missed a flight. That’s pretty crazy since I’m probably one of the most scattered travelers to ever have rushed quickly through an airport while simultaneously reaching in pockets and zippers to find my boarding pass.

What gate? What time again? What zone? Where IS that thing?

How does it always work out? It’s really actually kind of miraculous. Like that time I was traveling with six week old Elsie Jane and Tracy happened to be on the flight home from BlogHer. She asked to switch so she could sit by us and then I was calm. More calm, anyway. She has witnessed my disorganized travel tendencies several times. Poor Tracy. When I’m along it’s as if she has a child along. Go that way, Heather. Here comes your bag, Heather. 

When I got here today I was thinking about paths, the figurative kind. The life kind. I was thinking of how people say trust the path or trust your path. Trust that you’re on it, no matter what. I figured that if I do that, even when I’m not sure, the reason it’s okay is that my feet are the ones pressing down the grass, the under-growth and sometimes even flowers. Mostly weeds.

This doesn’t make sense when you’re in a season of rebellion against you and your God and your family and life. You think you’re all tangled up in broken things, wrong things and you are to the extent that you’re hurting you and maybe some other people. But maybe you can trust the path, that stomping down the weeds the way you are is still leading somewhere else.

I hope you turn around to see you’re being followed in a really good and protective way and that seeing that’s true helps you take a turn and use the last path on the new one.

I mean, sooner or later, I’m going to get to Arizona, even though it might take a while longer.

While I’m there, I’m going to miss my family and that’s good. I need to miss them for a few days. We’ve been together a lot with sickness and winter. We’ll come back together and be together a lot again. But still, it hurts to miss them. That’s the stepping on flowers part for me this weekend. And the fact that I left my bags of clearance priced Cadbury mini eggs in the car!

Now it’s time to go get some work done. The emails, the writing, the getting ready for speaking. Airports, airplanes, travel…make me think about paths…roads….I get extra think-y here. Give me a little more time, some head space, and that’s just about all I do. Today all this thinking reminds me to stay right here, in this moment. I can’t control the path, but I can walk it.