The Highway

The highway in front of my house is a simple two-way lane that connects one small town with another.  In the dark night hours, it is a bit quiet with only carrier trucks transporting their goods and the occasional wanderer heading home.  In the early dawn, employees speed by on their way to work away another day and the fishermen with their boats speed by on their way to the lakes nearby for the catch of the day.  Soon the school buses and parents with their children will zoom by in pursuit of education and other lofty goals.

The highway in front of my house is a main thoroughfare.  There are long stretches of open road often through scenery of a farmer’s paradise of crops, cows and horses.  Most often you will find the isolated residence where privacy is key and boundaries are essential.  The yards may be adorned more with rusted out vehicles and not knock-out roses blooming riotously and brilliantly.  The higher the pick up truck is suspended off the ground the deeper is their sense of value.  There are no traffic lights along this stretch of of highway, only the occasional stop sign and perhaps a four-way intersection at points of possible congestion.  Law Enforcement and Emergency Services know this path well, perhaps because it is the quickest route or perhaps because it is the only route.

Along this highway in the most recent few weeks a runaway sheriff’s car met its demise after the handcuffed perpetrator did his best to free himself from captivity.  It seems that his attempt at forgery in the local bank was not as impressive to others as it was to him.   Just hours ago, yet further down the road, there was a murder committed after love was expressed outside the boundaries of the marriage vows.  It seems this unassuming two-lane thoroughfare is becoming notable for activities other than farming and horsing around.

Sometimes life carries on from day-to-day in the expected and in the mundane.  We rise and tackle the tasks for the day; we retire for the night in the hopes of gaining rest so we can face another day.  There is tranquility and comfort found in this.  We know where the boundaries are and where our duties lie.  We have short-term goals that are manageable but we must be careful for those goals may turn monotonous.

Then the day comes where there is an intruder into the mundane, a runaway situation that seems to have no good purpose and no right end.  Then the night falls where there is an explosion of pain, hurt and anger where rights take the life of one and imprison another.  The highway that runs through our life, instead of bringing convenience and accomplishment, ushers in the sinister and the deadly. 

The highways of life may open the way to that which is good and may open the way to that which is not good.  In the good and in the bad, it is the heart where security is found.  In the sanctuary of a heart steadfast and true, of a heart built on Truth and grown in faith, there is Peace.  Love has washed away the stains of shame and broken the chains of condemnation.  The curtains of fear have been replaced with drapes of Hope and the Light that shines through renews the heart to face the day.  The night is filled with praise and abiding rest for the bed on which we lie is not made of roses and thorns but blankets of Love and pillows of Truth.  A banqueting table awaits morning, noon and night of the richest of fare, satisfying the hunger of the soul and the delights of the spirit.

The highway in front of my house is a simple two-way lane that connects one small town with another.  Within my house, within my heart, there is a sanctuary.  May all who pass by see the Light of Hope, of Peace, of Love.


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