The Open Road

"As I sit here reflecting on my almost 29 years of existence, I glare back into the rear view mirror fogged with lessons of faith, visions of beauty and a driving force of passion pushing me forward into the open road. With one hand on the wheel and the other on my heart, the horizon is always a fair share away. The miles markers pass with every event and every occasion yet at the end of every mile, I realize the journey is always just beginning.Every day that we take a breath and watch our chest rise to meet the expectations of this world and every moment our hearts sets sail on the sea of hopes and dreams in this lifetime, we not only become not one step closer to the end but also one step closer to the beginning. From my emerald green eyes, luminous tears of amazement pour my soul for the appreciation of the scenery along this lengthy and sometimes seemingly fatal road trip. Behind me I have left the storms of pain, endured the tornadoes of the unknown, battled hurricanes of the mind and have been struck by lightning of harsh realities of this very human earth. Beside me on the outskirts I have seen the subtle vast elegance of nature bursting through the busy cities. I have watched the view change along with the seasons. I have see the snow fall along the mountains that I have fought so hard and courageously to rise above. I have felt the breeze of the crisp autumn air beneath my golden locks as I looked to the array of colors blazing like fire through the quiet before the dead of winter. I have smelled the scent of drying linens hung out on the cloths line for the world to see while they basked in the sundrenched beams of summer. I have heard the sound of birds chirping and a bee’s wing fluttering with anticipation for the life ahead.The bottoms of stilettos are clearly worn. The buckles have loosened and the leather has stretched more than it was ever designed to. The mud from the rains puddles have now long dried yet the dampness will never truly fade. Not even with time. My feet have been blistered from the endless travels of the seemingly never ending upward hills and the downward spirals that brought me crashing to my knees. The heel has been worn down from the tired shuffling when I simply could not take one more step. The color was once so alive now stands dimmed from the sweltering hot of the moments that couldn’t end fast enough. As my wrinkled hand reaches for the wipers to erase all imperfections from my view, I stop and I think. Without this rain, the flowers bulbs beneath the soils surface only miles ahead would never blossom. Without these imperfections and signs to slow down and proceed with caution, the life waiting to immerse would never be given the chance. My foot hits the brakes and places the car into stop. I step out in my bare feet with my toes sunken into the soil. I throw my hands up into the lightening filled sky feeling the thunder rumble beneath my heels. I cannot tell if it tears or rain that fall down my porcelain cheek and over my pale pink lips. Just before I shout at life for making my travels so difficult, I looked not at what is behind me, not at what is beside me and not what is above me or below me. I look ahead at what is before me. Through the hail and wind I can see the sky of baby blue and violet decorated with rays of fuchsia coloring the road ahead. It may be raining where I stand at this moment in time but I know that this rain will bring life along my way. It seems so far with my tires deep in the wet spoil. It seems like such a long road with my gas tank near empty. But luckily for me I learned 12 years ago that nothing is what it seems and that beauty is only one other perspective away. I throw caution into the wind and the map in a heap piles onto my faded dash. I reach into the glove box and take out all my memories and scatter them into the wild winds as seeds to be planted, to grow into something far beyond what they were to me. I pack my blessings into the back seat so that when my trip seems a little lonely, I can look over my shoulder and know that I never traveled alone. When my eyes begin to flutter from the weary hours of travel I can turn the sound up on my inner dreams to focus on where I am going. On the front seat is my torn and tattered bible, unfolding at the seams. God, His word, my constant companion and compass, never having left my side. My destination I know is far more beautiful than anything my mind can begin to comprehend but it is this journey, this road that has led me to the people that have been my road signs when I was lost or misguided. It was you who sung off key to keep me awake in the darkened hours. It was you who showed up at oddest of times simply to say I love you. It was you who shared your hope when mine was missing and who gave your strength when I was broken down. While this path has not always been easy, it’s certainly has been rewarding. I don’t know if my life is “worth” writing about but I do know that my journey has been worth the suffering. For if we never suffered we would never truly understand compassion. I don’t know if my life is “worth” writing about but I do know that my journey has been worth the suffering. For if we never suffered we would never truly understand compassion." “"I asked God to help me love others as much as he loves me and God said, ahhhh! Finally, you have the idea"” "~Angel Alyson