The past few weeks and months have held a good bit of travel for me. Vacation to South Carolina, quick girl’s trip to the beach with a friend, and of course the weekend bike rides with my guy. I’ve ridden the interstates, the backroads and what feels like every road in between.
We took a bike ride a few weekends ago and I was soaking in the scenery on an old country road. You know the kind…full of pot holes and faded lines. Barbed wire fencing lined the pastures, and moss hung off the trees so low I felt like I could reach up and grab it. The old country road was full of miles traveled by many people. I thought about how many mommas had driven up and down that road rushing their kid to and from school and all the daddies who had traveled that road late at night after a long shift at work.
As I changed my view from the road to the houses I started noticing the older homes. While some still had families, I was drawn to the ones that were empty. I started thinking about the life that had been shared inside those old walls. I’m sure laughter had riddled the hallways a few times. Sunday lunches were cooked in the kitchens and babies were brought home through those front doors. I’m sure some heartbreak landed on those front porches too. Right there on those steps some mommas were told their babies weren’t coming home from a war. And, some kids left for college on the same ones to never return.
The empty houses looked lonely. Most of them had holes in the roof. The grass was tall and the doors were a little uneven. Even though they were in rough shape I couldn’t help but think about how quickly they could be restored. Roofs can be replaced and grass can be mowed. The siding can be painted and doors can be rehung. Patience, love and hard work can do a lot to an old house.
As the old country road ended and we turned onto a highway, I couldn’t help but look back. I started thinking about my life and my heart and how so many times throughout the years I’ve had the same thing happen to me. I took a few shots and found myself pretty empty and lonely and my grass grew pretty high. I remember that one heartbreak where my roof fell in. And, I’ll never forget that storm that almost blew the door off my heart. The further we drove down the highway I found myself finding a new thankfulness for the Cross. I was thankful that Jesus had fixed my brokenness. He had restored my walls and brought me back to life. He cut down the grass where pruning needed to happen, and he rehung the doors to my heart in the perfect way only he can.
Life often tatters us. We get beaten down by the winds and rains. Sometimes we give up on ourselves and let it all go to shambles. But, never, not once is it gone too far. Every breath is a chance to take a step forward. Every moment is an opportunity to take a different path. Life…it ain’t easy. Walking with Jesus doesn’t make it simpler…it just makes the walk have more hope. ❤️