Thankful for roads

I've written about this before, but it bears repeating because my gratitude for roads has been a painfully acquired taste.

Travel is not my favorite.  Travel throws off my groove and makes me feel sick.  Sleeping, eating and other basic body functions become problematic for me.  I get headaches.  I get grouchy.  I get forgetful and tense, panicked and exhausted.  Overwrought.  Rashy.  I want to go home, but I do not want to undergo the additional travel required to get there.

Therefore, when travel is required in order for me to be able to see my loved ones, I struggle with my attitude.

My life goes like this:
No contact with loved ones.
No contact with loved ones.
No contact with loved ones.
No contact with loved ones.
No contact with loved ones.
Long trip... Live on top of loved ones in their space, throwing their schedules and ours into a tizzy, creating stress and havoc... Long trip home.
No contact with loved ones.
No contact with loved ones.
No contact with loved ones.
No contact with loved ones.
No contact with loved ones.

This is the antithesis of what I would hope for.  I would hope for a cozy life where my loved ones are a regular part of the rhythm, where a "visit" means stopping by to drop off some extra cookies I made, not moving in and crowding the bathroom for days.

I don't sound very thankful, do I?

That's probably because, historically, I haven't been thankful.  I've been grumbly.  I pack up the van and sigh, moan, think, "Why me?  Why do I have to live so far away?  Why do I have to get carsick every time I want to see my family?"

I have slumped in the passenger seat, filled with discontent, hating the road, my seatbelt, the weather, the other traffic on the road, the billboards, the fast food restaurants, and especially the gas station restrooms.  I have actively spewed hate at all of it.  I hated it for twenty-five years while I lived in New York, and then I moved to Illinois.  In Illinois, I found myself still a significant drive from my extended family; but now, now I am distant from my kids as well.

Bet you can't even imagine why God would take her kids away from a grumbly woman like me.  [This is sarcasm.  I find that it is helpful to point out when I am using sarcasm.  And hyperbole.  Oh my word, do I get into trouble with hyperbole.]

I have three heart desires that I am trying to give to the Lord (back to literal truth here).  One of them is to live in close proximity with family, and to have family relationships be an integral part of everyday life.  I am so tired of missing people.  I used to call it homesickness, but that's not exactly what it is.  It's just plain missing people, the pain like an amputation that starts to ache beyond what you'd think you could bear in the evenings after the sun goes down, and on Sunday afternoons.

The Bible says, "Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart."  I understand that this does not mean I get a beautiful, toned and athletic body, plus all the delicious chocolate milkshakes I want.  Not only are these desires incompatible with one another, each is also selfish and idolatrous on its own.  We cannot "delight ourselves in the Lord" as an item on a checklist, in order to then gain some other earthly desire that exists outside of Him, even if that earthly desire is proximity to one's children.  We must truly delight in the Lord, and then when He is the delight of our heart, we have gained the desire of our heart.  Jesus is enough.

And yet, the Bible also says that God sets the lonely in families.  Families are good.  Relationships are good.  Fellowship and company and community are good.

Sometimes, much as we mourn the distance, roads are good.

Roads are what connect the distant points.  Roads allow us to get to where our loved ones are.  Whether it is a dusty country road, a tree-lined avenue in a neighborhood, or a busy interstate, roads bridge the gap between one location and another, and without them, we couldn't travel to see our distant loved ones.

Forgive me.  I'm tired (this always takes a toll on my perspective).  We were away driving for four days straight, visiting loved ones.  It was a blessing to see them, to touch them, to converse face-to-face.  I asked Shawn, "What was your favorite part of the trip?" and he replied, "Hugging the kids."  I have to agree.

Yes, I mourn the distances, but I am thankful for the roads that allow us to come together.

Also, airplanes that bring people to us.