The road is smooth, wide and non-stop from southern Ontario to New Brunswick. It’s a road I’ve traveled many times. In the past, we had 4 kids with us. Now they’re all grown up. With or without kids, you have a lot of time to think when you drive fourteen hours in one day.
These are warm, pleasant times with my wife. It wasn’t always that way. In the very beginning, we talked non-stop. Isn’t that what young love does? I loved those times with her. Things changed after the first year of our marriage. Somehow, conversations grew unhappy. She said I was too critical. I said she was too sensitive. I wanted to confront our issues. She was willing but not if it meant feeling criticized.
Soon, we traveled in silence. I resented her for that, still ignorant of God’s plans for my own inner healing. He knew I needed my neediness to be broken, fully and painfully. Instead, my thoughts dwelled on judgments – how could she sit for hours in silence, falling asleep at every chance or, perhaps just pretending to be asleep. Avoiding conflict is one way to cope. I feel sad for the many people I meet for whom avoiding conflict has become their way of life. They simply never learned how to resolve the outer conflict rooted in their inner struggle.
By the grace of God, I was healed of this relentless, searing inner conflict. If you want to know how, I tell the heart and soul of how in my e-book, Near and Far Stay Married.
Now I don’t do a lot of thinking. I notice the scenery, chat easily with Joanne about present moment happenings or surf my tablet when she is at the wheel. Thoughts come to me about my work and God’s calling for me. I wish I could write them down but I’m driving and she’s asleep.
Scenes pass by me that I wish I could photograph and share. Near Cornwall, I gazed upon an old farmer couple in a shiny 1982 Chevy pick-up pulling a beat up 1960s small house trailer. In my rear view mirror, I saw them head on just like in the movies. God bless them, Mr and Mrs Whistler.
Along Highway 20, just before Riviere du Loup, giant rocky hills crest out of pure, flat farmland. I wonder how they came to be that way. God’s creation is stunning and a mystery to me. I think of how our planet earth is like gazing upon a kernel of corn lying in a vast, empty field. Seven billion of us crawl around on that kernel. So many of us living in fear and war and endless anxiety.
I thank God for the Bible. I have no other way in which to make sense of this world. Each of us must somehow travel this road. It is the one destiny none of us can escape.