The lyricist says, “Life is a highway. I’m gonna ride it all night
long.” If he meant it is full of accidents
and construction delays and raging people and an occasional detour, I concur.
Otherwise, I think I shall disagree.
Highways are straight. And wide.
My life, on the other hand, is full of twists and spirals. It is
sometimes a hard path to follow, uncharted and wild and so narrow at points
that I cannot even see the very next foothold.
Highways stretch smooth concrete and asphalt, leveling fields, blasting
through mountains. My path is unpaved, natural and rocky. My boots are muddy. I
slip, stumble, fall. Obstacles have not
been bulldozed ahead of me.
Highways offer egress only where the planners have deemed. I can choose
my own rest areas, decide for myself when I need to stop, even if it is right
in the middle. And believe me, I have stopped right in the middle. More than
once.
And highways bypass the beautiful. That’s one big reason why I prefer
my more scenic route. Stop and smell the
roses? Sure, anytime. And not just smell, but breathe in and admire and
examine.
The highway is the way of the masses.
I guess I am counter-cultural, the salmon swimming upstream. So what if
I don’t have a paddle. Neither does the salmon.
I saw a bumper sticker today. “You laugh at me because I am
different. I laugh because you are all
the same.” The irony? We were on a highway. But I got off at the next crossing.
May you exit the highway and find your path. Roses await.
But small is the gate and narrow
the road that leads to life, and only a few find it. Matthew 7:14
No comments:
Post a Comment