The Road in Front of Me

I have always been fascinated by roads. Not in the design, build, or types of roads, but just simply the road.

When I was in college, I initially fell in love with the road because my college boyfriend and I would take drives through the country in Putnam, Smith and Overton county. We often found ourselves there when we just needed time to talk or even just to drive quietly holding hands, because a dorm was definitely not the place to be able to do those things, it’s never quiet! We would drive for hours, getting lost just so we could find our way home. I used to say “All roads lead back to Cookeville.” It really did feel that way. But we always found our way back and we rarely had to turn around, maybe all roads do lead to Cookeville?

We laughed on our travels, cried, got frustrated, likely yelled a couple of times, got scared one time on one particularly creepy road (yea, we turned around that time!), and just really began to understand one another better. We always knew that taking a drive would give us the time to work through whatever we needed to work through. I began to really see the true man, his passions, his hopes, his dreams. While I had fallen in love with him rather quickly, I inadvertently fell in love with the road in the process. 

You see, I didn't drive until I went to college. In fact, I got my license at 18, and the only reason I got it then was because I didn't want my younger sister to have her license before me. She was a bit more motivated than I was apparently. My sophomore year of college, I took my car with me to school because I had an off-campus job. Those first few months, I was terrified. I was afraid that I wouldn't figure this out, but I did, and I never realized how much I would love the freedom to be on the open road with the windows down, air in my face, heat on my feet and the music to sing along to.

After I broke up with my college boyfriend, I began to take those drives by myself (don't worry, I always made someone aware of where I was headed or I would take someone with me). I would take those old familiar routes, but then I began to try new routes, just to see where it would take me. Again, causing me to fall more in love with the road than I ever knew possible.

When I decided to go to seminary, I chose Asbury, for several reasons. One, it allowed me to remain in Cookeville working as a youth minister, and taking classes online. Two, it was an easy drive from Cookeville for those classes on campus. Over the years that I was in Seminary, I began to appreciate the drives to Asbury because it gave me a complete 4 hour drive to think, pray, be. That was until one of my final semesters where I had to go every Thursday for a class. That drive got old real quick, 8 hours in a car every Thursday. I didn't always like the road at that point. But interestingly enough when I needed to clear my mind, I would still find myself driving down that old familiar road headed often towards Waterloo.

When I moved to Murfreesboro, I quickly learned where everything was because taking a drive was always a good way for me to unwind and take a deep breath. The road has always been a place of peace for me. In fact, I have a friend who understands when I need a moment of peace because I will say "I am going for a drive." She doesn't question, she just knows. 

To be real, the road hasn't always been kind, as I have had car accidents, driven in snow and ice and dealt with the elements, and you know how much fun that is! I have experienced foggy days where you can't go any faster than 20mph on the interstate. Yet, I always find my way back to the road. 

This love affair that I have for the road still holds true today. When I find myself on a road going somewhere in particular or even going no where but where the car takes me, I find myself. I find myself here after I see a thought provoking movie, or when I have a sermon to write and just can’t find it. I find myself here when I have a hard day, sad day, bad day, great day, or even days filled with epiphanies. The road has often become my place of refuge. And often it has become the place where God meets me. 

Throughout my 14 years of driving, I have taken many of drives:

Some with people that I initiated, ( it’s a great place to talk about life and honestly a great place to get people talking), some I didn’t. 

Some I have experienced great adventures or terrifying moments, like the time my friend Adrianne and I encountered a massive dog on a country road in the middle of Overton County at night and thought it was a Yeti. Yea, that scared me to death!

Some I laughed until I cried. 

Some I just cried. 

Some I sang at the top of my lungs as the music came over the speakers. 

Some I drove in complete silence because I had nothing to say. 

Some I listened, some I spoke. 

Some I got angry, and some I sat humbly. 

Some I felt a sense of awe and wonder as I saw the mountains unfold in front of me or that moment when I come over that hill in Fairfield Glade, and see that steeple of the church that I call home. And I think, it’s so good to be home.

Today, on this Good Friday. A day that has culminated in remembering the suffering and death of Jesus, in the midst of the life around me that continues to move and change with each new moment. I find myself longing for the road. Longing for the place of refuge. The place of peace. The place to breathe. So I go. Not for long, just long enough.

In every moment that I find myself there, the road has met me again like an old friend. It’s like it says to me, “Here we are again. Take a deep breath. Take in what is around you. Look in the rear view mirror once in a while when you are changing lanes. Otherwise, look forward. Keep going. and when you stop, I will be here when you need me again.”

As I travel down these roads, it's almost as if God has said to me, "I am here. Take a deep breath, I have you. Step away from it all for just a moment, and hear these words that have been spoken over and over again, "My peace I leave you. My peace I give you..." 

May it be so, O God, in each of our lives. May it be so. 

Mister Rogers Still Surprises Me!

I picked up my iPad tonight to read for the first time in a while. I opened it up and the first book that opened was The Simple Faith of Mister Rogers. Most people may not know this but I am fascinated by this man. I watched him growing up every day and I still watch him at times today. Most recently, a couple of movies have come out that reminds me why I look up to this man. He makes me want to be a better person. He makes me want to look at my life and work on my relationships with people and my relationship with God. He challenges the way I think, the way I interact with people, and even the way that I respond to my anger that dwells up within me.

Tonight as I read, I found myself again drawn to him in a new way. The author was writing about how she and Fred exchanged letters that contained different ways that’s they could pray for one another, and it would eventually move to praying for their friends, I must admit, I am a little jealous that she got to have these interactions with him and I didn’t, but I won’t hold that against her. 😉 As she finishes this chapter that was about prayer, she writes: “And so with that Fred was handing down another toast stick: Prayer is not only a daily discipline that deepens our relationship with God; it also provides a way for us to be together in our aloneness.” 

In the midst of this isolation, I find this to be a very profound and comforting thought... definitely something to think on and maybe expand my thoughts on in the future but for now, I think I want to sit with it. See where it takes me. Where does it take you?

Do Not Be Afraid

There are days when the only thing that I can do is write… so tonight, I write. 

For the last several weeks, my heart has been heavy. 

It holds within it people who are hurting because of loss or illness and a town that I love and people that I care about so deeply who have experienced a great deal of pain, loss, and heartache. When I heard about the tornado, I began texting the people that I knew were in the path. I had learned early in the day that the people that I knew were safe, some lost things, but their families were ok. While I worked that day, my heart was with them, because I knew that other families were not so lucky, and many of the families that I knew were connected to those that were lost. That week was a hard week for so many, and many there are still trying to figure out what comes next. But if I learned anything about Cookeville, it is that it IS a place that is strong and will rebuild.

Then this week, this virus, this COVID-19, that has been coming upon us, came quicker than we would have liked. When I began to hear about a quarantine, I immediately responded in anger- which is really a response that is fear, just appearing as anger. I was angry because I knew it could hurt a lot of people. I was angry because it was scary. There was a part of me that wanted to deny it. But reading the CDC reports, hearing reports from doctors and political leaders, I have come to realize that we must take this seriously, and that yes, it can be scary. It is scary. When I heard that we should be practicing “social distancing” and avoiding touch, my anger doubled, because that is about as appealing as a banana is to me, meaning not appealing at all. 

As I have had time to think about all of this, to read, to research, to talk through and now to work through what it means to move worship services to completely online with amazing pastors and staff, my heart has softened, my mind has cleared, and my anger has dissipated. I realized that this isn’t about me. This quarantine is not meant to hurt us; it’s meant to help us in the long run. This is about protecting other people, specifically those who are older, or whose immune systems are compromised. This is about taking care of our nurses and doctors so that the hospital doesn’t become overwhelmed. This is really about loving one another. It just looks a little different that it normally would, but its love none the less.

This is about community. This is about unity. In fact, in the midst of the fear that seems so present, it is community that has always come through in the worst moments. And I have a feeling it will be community that will get us through this hard moment.

Over the last two weeks, I have watched the communities that I love: Cookeville, Nashville, Murfreesboro, come together and be embraced. I watched as people gathered to clean up and to love people by offering their hands, bobcats, and compassionate hearts. I have taken part in conversations about how to best serve and love our community when we can’t actually see each other face to face. I have experienced great moments of joy and peace. I have watched these communities show the world just how strong they are together. I have listened to sermons, prayers, and worship services where the word isn’t just about what has happened, but about the HOPE that still exists in the midst of the chaos and even in the midst of the quiet.

Hope can be found when someone helps you dig through the rubble to help you find those pictures from your wedding day, or someone who will bring you groceries or a meal, because you don’t cook anymore. Sometimes hope comes directly from scripture reminding us of the radical hospitality, mercy, forgiveness and grace of a God who loves us, and sometimes it’s a child who puts a smile on your face with a video that he made about how to put Legos together to make a car. 

HOPE can be found, if we will just look for it. 

The problem is that sometimes we miss hope, because we live in fear. It seems often times, fear really shows its ugly and lying ways when there is a change, when something comes up that we have yet to face that causes our foundation to be rocked. And sometimes rather than facing that fear head on, it’s easier to just buckle under the pressure and give in to the fear. To live in fear and forget to hope. 

Over the last several weeks, fear has been ever present. Fear that weather will come again, fear of a virus that seems inevitable in this moment. Fear of people because they may give us this virus. Fear of what we do not understand and do not know how to stop. Fear is rampant. I know that because in my own bones these last several weeks, I have lived it more times than I care to admit. I have been afraid and truthfully there have been moments when I have buckled under the pressure that fear causes and given in to that fear. Yet, I was reminded this week as I sat in worship on Thursday night that there is HOPE. Fear does not have the last word, even when our whole being has given into fear, it’s not the end. There is still God who is speaking to our hearts, “do not be afraid, do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” While the circumstances for Joshua were different, I believe God is saying that to us now. Do not be afraid. Take precaution, do what you have to do to be safe. But know that this quarantine will only last for a while, though we don’t know what that means or even how long. There will come a time when hugs, handshakes, and visits will be ok again, but for now, keep your distance. Call people rather than visiting in person. Facetime. Sit on your front porch talking across the lawn to your neighbors. Cook a meal. Take time to be. Take time to love.

I realize that it’s easy to say these words, and its much harder to live them. I guarantee you over the next little bit, I will have my own moments where I forget to live in hope because of everything going on. Because it can be heavy. It will be hard. 

As I laid down in my bed last night, I found these words from Bread for the Journey written by Henri Nouwen, “Sometimes it’s good to say, “You don’t have to talk. Just close your eyes. I am here with you, thinking of you, praying for you, loving you.” All I could think of were the people that God has placed in my life for the moments when it is heavy, who may not have said these exact words of Nouwen’s but who have said words like these.

So my prayer for you in the coming days and weeks is that in the moments when we hit our walls, when we begin to fear more than hope, or when being isolated gets the best of us may we have courage to reach out to the people that God has gifted us with. Even though we may not be able to see one another face to face, may you hear and know these words: “You don’t have to talk. Just close your eyes. I am here with you, thinking of you, praying for you, loving you.” And know that even in moments when we feel most alone, God is there saying, “Do not be afraid… for I am with you.”