Friday, September 5, 2014


Today the Lord gifted me with some spare time for reflecting on things.  I am always grateful when those moments come - to see how far we have gone and what we have accomplished; to see the ways, both miniscule and ginormous, that God has been working in my life.

It's been 13 months since my husband was taken out of work due to the worsening of his disability.  Some things haven't changed one bit.  We still live in the same home, go to the same church, drive the same car, homeschool, etc. In fact on the exterior I don't think many people have noticed much of a change, if any.

At times, much to my fury, other things that have not changed: his disability is *still* not improving enough for him to return to work and the therapists say it could take 3-5 years.  Despite this information the VA refuses to up his disability rating because "there's a chance at recovery".  *sigh*  Great.  What about NOW?

It's the interior of our lives that has changed so much.  I pray more.  I've learned to trust God more.  I've spent more time with my family than I've ever been blessed with in 12 years of marriage. I've been given the distinct opportunity from God to fall in love with my husband all over again.  I've had the chance to see more of the state of Montana than ever before thanks to a wide variety of doctor's appointments all over the state.

My oldest son has gone from being a Cub Scout to a Boy Scout.  He is now dual enrolled in 2 troops and so busy I can barely keep him where he needs to be.  Our youngest has passed his second birthday and discovered the word "spaz", much to his delight and our chagrin.

My husband has gone through many phases: exhausted from trying to keep up a charade of health to scrambling to try and fix his health to where he sits now, the proud owner of his own business who is working on his dreams. He has grown so much, especially as a father.  He has time for the boys now and they can't imagine a world where that goes away again.

Friends have come and gone and come again.  These are the moments in your life when you find out where people truly stand.  Do they *really* have your back or are they just more fair-weather friends who bail out of the ship the very moment things don't go their way?  I am grateful for the new ones in my life but I am even more grateful God gave me yet another opportunity to sort the wheat from the chaff.

To those who have prayed: Know that God has heard you and that we could not possibly be more thankful for His new plans for our life. 

To those who have left: Thank you for getting out of the way so God prepare us for even greater things.

To those who have stayed: Thank you for sojourning on with us.

So often in my life I find myself reflecting back to works of literature I have read and seeing how the meanings morph and shift as I grow older.  This particular poem is one we have all heard but many do not know the actual story behind it.

From 1912 to 1915 Robert Frost traveled to England where he developed a friendship with another writer named Edward Thomas.  The two frequently took long walks together and Edward's frequent issues with indecision on which way to travel further led to Mr. Frost penning this now famous poem with tongue in cheek about his friend's difficulty when they came to a crossroads. 

Mr. Thomas took the poem far more seriously than it was intended as did the rest of America, much to Mr. Frost's chagrin.  It became his final push of inspiration to join the British Army in World War I.  Two short years later, shortly after arriving in France, he was killed on April 9, 1917 in the Battle of Arras.

Much like Mr. Thomas, this poem has meant so much more to me than a jest between friends.  I apologize to Mr. Frost for not taking his words at face value but sometimes the Lord gives us the ability to write something that is truly meant to mean something very different for others.  Every songwriter in the world can attest to this happening to them, yours truly included.

The Road Not Taken
By Robert Frost
(first published in 1916 in the collection Mountain Interval)

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

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