Friday, August 27, 2010

many roads to 31

... If you'll step inside this great glass elevator/It'll take us up above the city lights/To where the planet curves away to the equator/I want to show you something fine/You can see the roads that we all traveled just to get here/A million minuscule decisions in a line/Why they brought us to this moment isn't clear/But that's all right, we've got all night

Could it be that the many roads/You took to get here/Were just for me to tell this story/And for you to hear this song/And your many hopes/And your many fears/Were meant to bring you here all along ...

From "Many Roads" by Andrew Peterson

This song is from an album I can't get enough of these days. I drive around my small town, thankful I can listen to the songs on my iPhone in my car. This is one of a few songs I keep playing.

And I keep thinking ...

I drive a mini van, and love doing so,

schedule some of my days around dropping off and picking up my daughter from preschool,

keep tabs on my 9-month-old son who is curious,

enjoy stocking my freezer with homemade meals my family likes to eat,

exchange recipes and talk about coupons with my friends,

scrapbook the memories we make so I don't forget,

think about how to deal with naptime so I don't have to deal with my preschooler procrastinating about her nighttime sleep,

stock a diaper bag quicker than I ever thought possible,

keep a list of people to whom I want to send birthday cards because days get away from me,

find times to play Settlers of Catan with my best friend based on the ever-changing schedules of our combined five kids,

have too-short but much-loved phone conversation with my other best friend that doesn't live close enough to be my neighbor anymore like she did when we were kids,

realize working at a small-town newspaper was the best lesson I've ever had in what community means,

am thankful that I get the chance to be at home with my kids, a decision I've not once regretted,

gave my job to a girl who quickly became my dear friend who reminds me of me but encourages [usually through our ongoing-conversation e-mails] me to be a better version of me,

cherish my community of friends who share the big moments and ordinary details of my life,

am thankful for Facebooking, texting and emailing so I can still share my life with people who don't live in my small town,

remember how when I was 16 I thought people who were in their 30s were old,

think about how people who are 16 have so much to learn and people in their 30s have much life to live,

surprise myself with loving this life that is absolutely nothing like I planned,

have 12 years of history with my husband, who was my college boyfriend first,

love reminiscing about who walked those many roads with me and helped me end up here,

and want to live in the moment because I know tomorrow is a new day.

[Side note: This is a palindrome post on my blog. It's #2,112. I've loved finding and seeing palindromes since 1991, when Mrs. Upchurch taught us sixth-graders about them.]


  1. I love palindromes too. Since 3rd grade when our reading book had a story about Hannah whose teacher told her her name was a palindrome and then left the room. Otto then teased her mercilousily until the teacher returned and told him he was a palindrome. Oh, I like all the other stuff you wrote too...