Open Road
If you read my last post, “Letting Go“, you know it’s been a couple of weeks since the kids moved out, and I started to mourn the passing of my time as a full-time parent. If you haven’t read that, check it out!
I still miss them, but I’m adjusting. I’m trying to figure out our new rules of engagement.
Should I text/call or wait for them? Is it OK to clean out and rearrange their old bedrooms to accommodate guests, or is there some unspoken waiting period? When should I offer advice, and when should I wait for them to ask? It’s all different.
At the same time, it is exciting. I feel a freedom I haven’t had in a long time. Without the kids depending on me, I am free to choose who I am and what I do. I am standing on an open road.
I’ve asked God where he wants me to go. Instead of directing me somewhere, he has given me peace.
I feel him saying “I love you, son. Which way do you want us to go?”
How do I answer that question? Which way do I want us to go? Before responding, I’m considering carefully.
The last time I felt the open road beneath me was in my early twenties. Like then, now I can pick a new career, live where I want, invest in the friends I choose, and fill my days with activities I select. It is exciting, but there is also a lot of anticipation in making decisions that may affect me for years to come.
There are mistakes I don’t want to repeat, things that have kept me from getting the most out of life. I need to break some bad habits.
The first habit has caused me to choose the wrong paths in the past. I have struggled my entire life with a chronic need to receive praise to make me feel loved. For example, while you are reading this post, I will be battling a constant urge to check the number of views it has received. Big numbers mean people like me, right?
This search for validation leads me to spend my time working on activities that earn praise instead of finding joy.
I am loved. I need to quit chasing after something I already have.
My second bad habit prevents me from relaxing. It is a need to feel like I am in control. There are times I have needed to retreat to a personal sanctuary to survive chaos and uncertainty. Over time, I have tried to expand my sanctuary instead of finding peace in my situation. It has led to an obsessive focus on insignificant details instead of enjoying the people in my life.
Every message I send does not require an immediate reply. Coffee tastes the same from a different mug. I can sit on the left side of the couch. Telephone batteries operate for a long time below 50% charge. The legs of the dining room chairs do not have to form a perfect line. Pepperoni pizza is not the only choice.
Life is full of unexpected pleasures. I’ve missed too many while I insisted on doing things my way.
It is time for me to imagine what I want my future to look like. I want to dream big, but I’m afraid of being disappointed because my goals aren’t achievable. There was a time however when any dream seemed within reach.
One Christmas when I was a child, I had a huge, boxed gift that I believed held a five-foot-tall rocket. I could close my eyes and visualize huge plumes of fire as it lifted from the ground. I wondered how I would find it when it returned from outer space (it turned out to be an air hockey table though, still a cool gift).
In high school, I had a poster of a huge mansion with five high-end sportscars inside. At the bottom, it said “JUSTIFICATION FOR HIGHER EDUCATION.” It seemed reasonable for an aspiring engineer.
When my kids were young, I built them rooms full of fantasy – bookcases that looked like castles with functioning drawbridges and walls covered with comic book covers.
Somewhere in the dad years, my dreams took a backseat to practicality. Being a practical father allowed my kids to grow up without worrying if they would have food, clothes and a place to sleep every night. I have no regrets, but I am now free to chase my dreams.
Lord, awaken the dreamer inside me.
I also need to be patient and enjoy the process of achieving my dreams. Years ago when my daughter said the blessing over dinner, she would pray “God, please help us get through this week so we can make it to the weekend.” Unintentionally, I had taught her to focus so much on results that she wasn’t content in her work.
Goals and dreams are important, but the reward is found in pursuing them, not from the trophies collected for their completion. I worked so hard to achieve my dreams that I had overlooked the very reason they exist. I don’t want a list of accomplishments. I want days that are full of love, life, and laughter.
God grant me patience.
Last, I want to surround myself with people I care about. I have a lot of great friends. I’ve also got a great family – children, a brother, a sister, parents, and others by blood or marriage. I want time with each of them. Together, we are a community. My community.
Of all the people I love and want to spend time with, I want Kim to be at my side. I want to live out a love story with her that generations will remember. Twenty-six years have convinced me I was blessed to marry the perfect person for me. May I take every opportunity to be thankful for her and to indulge in the time we have together.
But I never answered God’s question. Which way do I want us to go?
The harder I try to pick the perfect destination, the more I realize that enjoying the trip is more important. I am thrilled to spend my day walking with Him. But I owe him an answer to his question, so I reply.
“That path on the right looks like an adventure. Can we go that way?”