Life is a Highway

Growing up, my family regularly took road trips-mostly to visit relatives. The average trip was ten hours, if you didn’t like long trips that was too bad. For most of my life, it has been my job to stay up with the driver. I’ve spent a lot of time staring through windshields, both front and rear.

I think it’s because of these car trips that I latched on to the idea of life as a journey. There is growing space behind us; as we turn the bend on another mountain we are leaving things behind. There is the seemingly endless road ahead of us, which sometimes we cannot get through fast enough, charging towards the next turn, the next climb. There are also the people with whom we share the road, other families on other journeys to unknown destinations. There are the trees and the mountains, the sunsets and stars that surround us even as we barrel past them. But more than anything, there are the people in the car with you-singing songs, talking, helping to navigate. Sometimes reading, sometimes sleeping but always close enough to know they are still there. In my mind, these are the people who journey with us-sometimes we are sharing space, sometimes we are celebrating, sometimes we are stopping to rest, but because of them we are not alone among ever-shifting scenery.

I’ve been blessed with really great people to share my figurative car . As we have traveled,  I’ve had the extreme pleasure of laughing with them, learning the road with them, celebrating their triumphs, and sitting with them in times of sorrow. And they have done the same for me.

I’m really grateful for those journeys, both figurative and literal, for the places this road has taken me, for the promise of road yet to be traveled and for the people with whom I travel. I could not be more proud to share this space with them.


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