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.
You know what I have always loved?
Those famed words of Robert Frost . . . two words diverged in a wood – sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler.
I think that was always my favorite poem because of how well I could relate. I used to be the same way. Pathways to the unknown scared me. The shadows of the trees cast down upon the forest floor . . . they made me take the easily marked path every time. I shied away from the tough stuff. I ran from the real stuff. I was too afraid to trust God with the road that was too steep or rocky.
But then that all changed when I met you.
How many unmarked pathways have we been on?
Gee, let’s see —
Lazy Falls Road that I always thought was a tad creepy, that mostly dirt pathway that turned into pavement eventually that you ALWAYS had to fishtail on! That back way where we hit a poor unfortunate raccoon and some old lady’s flowerbed . . . but none of those take the cake.
Do you remember that wrong turn we took when we were on our way to our wedding? The road was icy. It was snowing. The wind was bellowing somewhere below freezing. The mountain was CLOSED.
But by the time we realized it – there was no turning back. There were no guard rails. Icy rocks kicked down to the bottom upon our every turn.
I remember telling you that I really wanted to marry you and I would be SO mad if I died before I got too! (And you know me better than anybody . . . I would have been mad too – the kind where the red on my face swallows my freckles right up!) Equal parts of fear and elation rushed over me. I was so scared . . . but I was scared with YOU. That somehow made it OK.
I reached out and held your hand tight. I said a prayer and thanked the Lord I wasn’t driving! I trusted you both with my life. So with that – you in your tux and me in my white dress – we braved the curves of that super-scary-how’d-we-get-on-this-thing-anyway-mountain . . .
I always thought that mountain was so indicative of our lives as husband and wife. It was me, you and God in that old car. It has always been me, you and God ever since. When times get hard and we have no other choice but to steer through the road less taken . . . I reach for your hand. I say a prayer. I thank God neither of us are driving! We trust Him with our lives.
You inspire me; you know, to think that way. You have never been afraid of the path that needed paving. Never. Back when we were wild, young and crazy . . . I would see a back road with no namesake and hold my breath – because I knew you would see that same road with no namesake and not be able to wait to see where it went!
I love that about you. You are always excited to see what’s next. The new stuff doesn’t scare you. The scary stuff doesn’t scare you either. You are always willing to take the unmarked path for me. You always put me first. There is a scene in an old Peter Pan novel where they are stuck on an island . . . he ties his kite around Wendy’s waist so she can escape. He stays behind because he loves her. She waves back afraid . . . “But Peter what will become of you?!” she asks. “To die,” Peter says. “that would be an awfully great adventure.”
Life doesn’t scare you. Like this you can find the adventure in all things. I think that makes you some-kind-of-brave.
I think that’s one of the many reasons God chose you special for me. There are so many places I would have been too afraid to go if I didn’t have your hand to hold. There are times you walk with me and times you place a kite string around my waist and encourage me to soar. You show me how brave I can be if I just look deep within myself and trust God from a place of transparent faith. You show me how rewarding the road less taken can be when I do not travel alone.Every one of those we have ever been down together, either literal or figurative, has been an adventure of a lifetime.
I’m so thankful for the roads less taken in our own lives . . . what an adventure!
You know – Frost was right. They really have made all the difference.
I have found the one my heart loves.
Song of Solomon 3:4