My favorite poem of all time is Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken. Perhaps because my own life has had so many twists and turns. Perhaps because I now weigh every difficult decision (and some not-so-difficult ones as well) with what I think God would have me do. But most often it’s because I don’t want to relive any mistakes over. And over. And over. Not that I’ve done that in the past. But life’s paths are so numerous – the choices almost limitless.
Sometimes I take the path of adventure, where I would have in the past been a wallflower; for all of life to me now is a bone of which the marrow of life must be sucked dry. Sometimes I take the path of cautiousness. Sometimes I wear my heart on my sleeve, or make new friends where before I would have been happy with a single friend for all of life. I see them now as wildflowers for my friend bouquet. Each one unique, and special, and adding color and variety to the bunch as a whole.
But I have to wonder about old Robert. You see, Robert spends a great amount of time looking forward. Inspecting the path, I suspect weighing the pros and cons of
each. If his traveler is anything like me, they would have made a list. Several, in fact. Of pros, and cons, and why this path is better than that path. But one thing we notice about his traveler. He never looks back at the path he took. Only knowing that the place that he ends up, he is there because, perhaps in part, of the amount of time he took to analyze it up front. However, I am not that way. I spend time looking forward, inspecting the path. But I also spend a lot of time looking at the path I came from. I smell the flowers along the side. And some would say, stop at the roadside Kool-aid stand and take a big ole’ drink.
each. If his traveler is anything like me, they would have made a list. Several, in fact. Of pros, and cons, and why this path is better than that path. But one thing we notice about his traveler. He never looks back at the path he took. Only knowing that the place that he ends up, he is there because, perhaps in part, of the amount of time he took to analyze it up front. However, I am not that way. I spend time looking forward, inspecting the path. But I also spend a lot of time looking at the path I came from. I smell the flowers along the side. And some would say, stop at the roadside Kool-aid stand and take a big ole’ drink.
Maybe Frost’s traveler read in Genesis 19 (in the Bible) where Lot and his wife were fleeing for their life, and were told not to ever look back. (Lot’s wife did and bless her, she was turned into a pillar of salt.) Folks of the Bible don’t ever really come back once they’ve left. Except Jesus. Well there went my theory. lol
I don’t guess we’ll ever really know, will we, the reason why Frost’s traveler looks only forward? And why does Old Robert come to the forefront of my mind today? Well, my family and I are thinking of making a big change. It seems a bit hasty for this plan-a-holic. But it makes sense financially. And it’s a big path. A huge fork. One where whichever path you take, you won’t ever be able to see the folks on the other path. Or ford a river to make it to the other path should you decide the one you took isn’t so great after all. At least I don’t think you can. But there are friends whom I’ll ask to pray with me about it. And I’ll make my lists. And I’ll stare and stare as far as I can down each path to see. Eventually we’ll take a step, and then another. And another. And pray that when we get to the end of the path, the one we took was worth the journey.
| The Road Not Taken… |
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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