Home by another way

The years have rushed past, life exploding and disintegrating, and suddenly I find myself reduced to a solitary life confined to a truck and miles of highway.  The kids are scattered, and my tax forms present my status as separated.  My time has become hours of silence, contemplation, and recovery.  Recovery to discover my essence and value.  Contemplations of God, family, and love.  Silence.  Emptiness.  Letting go.

These processes are never simple, painless, or easy. I happened upon something I wrote in a draft years ago:

 "We have been following a trail through a dense forest for the last two years.  Sometimes the path was steep, sometimes strewn with roots that threatened to upend us, sometimes wide with dappled sunlight glistening through the overhead leaves.  But today we have emerged into bright sunlight at the edge and are facing a grassy meadow that is gently beckoning us forward.  Today our lives are changing, and though we don't yet see the path stretching off into the distance, the path is as sure as it was in the dark forest.  And one thing we do know; the path before us will be different."

Prophetic to be sure.  Dark forests, dangerous footing, indistinct direction.  Moments of joy and clarity, coupled with dark nights and despair.  It's all part of it.  It's all important.  And it's all leading us home, even if by another way.