In my ninth grade Geometry class that I passed by the hair of my skinny-chin-chin, (I think that’s how you say that…) I learned one thing, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. This information has served me greatly on the vast many road trips my life and work have required me to take. Even driving through Nashville, I’m always thinking, “Okay, now which way is the straightest line.” So needless to say, I’ve never been an “enjoy the journey” kind of girl. I’ve always been more of a “destination” kind of girl.

This great revelation came as my precious friend Packer and I were taking a road trip from a retreat we had been to in the mountains of Tennessee to the SIBA book convention that I had to do in Atlanta. Now, I’ve lived in Tennessee long enough to know that there are no straight lines through the mountains. So, I alwayas look for the quickest route to the inter-state. But I was assured (by two men- no less) that the “quickest” route was over the mountain.

Well, that trip over the mountain ended up with one missed turn and about a hundred extra miles, including a trip through Helen, Georgia, (which I have sinced renaimed- you get the picture I’m sure) complete with a German parade and an Elvis impersonator. I can never say that my life hasn’t been filled with great amusement. However, after having to pick up a Coke to endure the rest of the journey my friend Packer proceeded to tell me how I needed to learn how to enjoy the journey.

I discovered on Friday I’m getting there. Headed to Franklin, North Carolina to speak at a women’s event, nothing but the GPS on my phone and some good music. Outside of Cleveland I hit the two lane roads and realized that this wasn’t going to be a jaunt across the interstate. And something in the soul of me settled. I rested into the hard back of the rental car, tugged on to the tight steering wheel and made my way around the winding roads that paralleled the Ocoee. And while I was there,
I let my mind wander to a trip I had taken the college kids I taught in Sunday School some twelve years ago and our “eventful” ride down the rapids. I even pulled over to the shoulder of the road to take a picture. I pulled over to the shoulder of the road and took a picture! I shocked myself. I don’t pull over except to go to the bathroom and then I run. But there was no rush in my step Friday. There was no wishing away the two lane road, there was just an intense appreciation of the beauty that surrounded me, the ability to do what I love and the fact that God was ever present.

Loss has changed me. Lightened me up.  Granted the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. But it sure isn’t the most breathtaking. In fact, I can’t say I’ve ever driven an interstate that has taken my breath away. Sure, the wildflowers in the medians of the Tennessee interstate are beautiful when they’re in bloom, but then I remember how angry people got at how much it cost and it kind of diminishes their appeal. But nothing diminishes the beauty of the Ocoee or the mountains that engulf you. And you don’t get little shacks selling boiled peanuts or sweet potato butter on interstates. Granted you don’t get as many dead skunks either, but you don’t get the joy of killing any either.

I’m not sure how long its been since you’ve enjoyed the journey through mountain roads, or sneaking away on an afternoon to take in a movie, or truly sabbathed on a Sunday, but seeing as it takes one to know one, I’ll tell you, we’ve missed a lot. Let’ s not miss anymore. God has showed off with His amazing canvas. And He delights in delighting us with it…