The click of the dead bolt and the rhythmic ticking of the clock bouncing off still tile summons another night alone. A year has passed, and his voice sinks to a deeper monotone with the rising of each new moon. The same Eeyore-tone echoes through the doorway as he lumbers toward the truck, “See you tomorrow; have a good night.”
His reality is sucking life from his very marrow, and I wonder how much longer he can continue traveling on this road to nowhere.
How I wish I could pluck him right out of this drudgery and hand him his dreams. Isn’t that what we all want, to live our dreams? And isn’t that what every wife wants, to see her man living his dreams, doing what he’s made to do?
I remember my road to nowhere. Years of thinking and second guessing and searching. Trying to grab hold of what I was made for, and coming up short for all the striving.
Measuring my worth by the scratching off of each day’s list and too often living like somewhere depended entirely on me. Robbing my heart with “something good’s coming”, when something good is here and now.
Through each striving for significance, his gentle words soothed, “God doesn’t waste any experience, and each one is good for something.”
He is right you know…only I never want to tell him. Too much I never knew is now so clear. It’s a shame we have to do so much living before wisdom becomes a welcome companion.
The truth is that sometimes nowhere is exactly where we need to be.
Nowhere can be the very place where striving dies, and thinking gives way to being.
Nowhere can be the one place of bending and kneeling and seeing things with a new perspective.
Nowhere can be the narrow road to soul-deep discovery
Nowhere can be the place our character yields to refining and defining
Nowhere can be a place of rest and a place of learning and a place of peace.
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11: 28-30 ESV
He thinks I am handling this better, that his journey to nowhere is his journey alone. But it’s our journey, and I see the changes, even through the frustration of our solitary nights and his body fighting sleep in the day because it was meant to rest in the moonlight, and counting of hours before the clock strikes midnight, and the heavy sigh of nowhere breathes again.
I see him taking pleasure in moments once taken for granted, and chiseling out disciplines he never had time for or never took time for. I see the fruit of allowing himself to wrestle with what he always thought he would do and what he’s doing and how this wrestling is opening his eyes to the unexpected somewhere.
I see this man I’ve been joined to for more years than I ever thought our head-knocking could survive, and how he wraps his arms in us longer, and how he lingers in the limited moments of each shortened day. I see the softening and the yielding and the treasuring; even if he doesn’t.
And I know something good is growing here and now, in this nowhere. It’s taking root, and nurturing in once parched places, and we are stronger and unified because nowhere is leading US somewhere we’ve never been before.
Maybe his somewhere depends on us getting to ours first. Maybe it’s just the beginning-
I like to think it is.
I’m linking up over at Moments of Hope, and you should come join me!