The Journey....

I have a secret garden that I call the Journey. It comes complete with path, trees, rocks, flowers, bushes, bugs, bunnies and squirrels. I call it the Journey because to me it is the symbol of life.. Sometimes when I look at it, it is distressed with weeds popping up and flowers spent, other times it is perfect for just that moment when the flowers are bloomed and the mulch is perfect and all is right with the world.

Just as is common in life, there are times when the path is clear, the weeds which I equate to evil and temptation are gone, freshly pulled and tossed aside. The mature trees along the path are my roots and family. They are strong and have been here for several generations. The stump is a reminder of the family members that are gone, but a piece of them remains and their root is entangled into mine. There are rocks which represent God and his importance in my life and his strength when I have none. The perennials are my true friends and they represent the solid friendships that can weather anything and never give up. The annuals are the once in a while people or friends who happen along my journey of life. They may not last long but they have made an impact along the way. The path is brick and represents the years of travel and at times when I have lost my way or wandered from the path, it stays steadfast until I find my way back.

The seasons of the Journey begin with Spring as we all did when life is full of hope as in the flowers when they start to pop their heads up and the hostas begin to fill in. In the summer when we were young and strong and relationships forged. Each year as with new relationships, new periennals are added with the hope of filling up the space to capacity. In the fall, it is time for change and rest. There is a majestic beauty in the changing colors of the leaves and plants, just as with us as time marches on, our own beauty changes some in appearance, some in behavior. It is a time of awe and wonder as to how did it become fall so soon and the awe of God's handiwork with the brillance of the colors and the crispness in the air. In the winter, the path is covered and it is indeed a time of rest. All the blemishes of the world are covered and lay beneath the surface. Once the peace and solitude of winter starts to thaw it is time to begin again and start planning for spring that will be here soon.

At the end of the path or my journey is a bench for rest. This year I will add my favorite saying to the end in hopes that someday when my real life journey ends this saying will still ring true. My mom gave me this saying on a tee shirt oddly enough but the words though they are in Greek, still remain true of who I am, what I value and how I believe.

" I want for nothing, I need nothing,....I am free".

Letting go of the String....

When is it that we become an adult....and let loose the hold on our youth. I saw it today in my son's eyes and I cried. Today he sold his motorcycle that he bought 7 years ago. It was a 2003 Anniversary Edition Harley Davidson bike. It is a beautiful Burgundy and he took care of it as if it were a child. I will never forget the day he bought it, he and a friend went to Indiana to pick it up and bring it home. My kids knew my dislike of motorcycles and I had always threatened them as any good parent would do with " If you want a bike it will have to be when you are not living here, I wont allow it." Well it was that thought that started all the trouble. I remember him coming home and telling me, and his brother being so excited but before I could fulfill my threat he just knew I was mad and took off. His brother defended him by saying that I told them if they ever brought a bike home they would be out....so out he stayed... and he didn't speak to me. It took a couple of days to smooth things over and though I was not pleased with what could be potentially life threatening....I saw the bike and it was beautiful. I even rode on the bike, but the beauty was in Bill's face and the pride that he had shown in being able to buy it in the first place and he rode it with confidence and pride. He made double payments on it, and took extreme care when he drove it. I can still feel the ground rumble and I knew without looking that it was him and the sound of the thunder that it created. He was home and he was safe.

Well life has a way of creeping up on you and today he stands with 3 little faces looking out the window at him and a fourth on the way. He is Dad, he is responsible and he is an adult. I can only imagine that as we pass from childhood to young adult to adulthood, it is like holding a handful of balloons and you hold tight to the strings and keep them from bursting or flying away. As we let go of some of our dreams we let go of some of our balloons. Today Bill loosed the hold on the string of that Burgundy balloon and sold his bike and freed a dream. There will come another time, another day, he may have another bike sometime, but it will never be like this one. This bike was born of his youth and paid for with young adulthood and sacrifice and sold with love. I stopped by as the new owners were loading it into their trailer and his face spoke volumes. Gone was the youth and before me stood an adult man with responsibilities watching from the window and how he handled this situation will forever mark him in their eyes as a Dad who sacrificed what he loved one day for the family he will love forever. At that moment in time he was my 19 year old son stuck in a 28 year old body. I love his spirit and strength and unselfishness and I marvel at the man he has become.