The Golden Road

   "The Story Girl ran over to the buggy and climbed in. Uncle Blair followed her. Her arms were full of Mrs Dale's chrysanthemums, held close up to her face, and her beautiful eyes shone softly at us over them. No good-byes were said, as she wished. We all smiled bravely and waved our hands as they drove out of the lane and down the moist red road into the shadows of the fir trees in the valley. But we all stood there, for we knew that we should see the Story Girl once more. Beyond the fir wood was an open curve in the road and she had promised to wave a last farewell as they passed around it.

   We watched the curve in silence, standing in a sorrowful little group in the sunshine of the autumn morning. The delight of the world has been ours on the golden road. It had enticed us with daisies and rewarded us with roses. Blossom and lyric had waited on our wishes. Thoughts, careless and sweet, had visited us. Laughter had been our comrade and fearless Hope our guide. But now the shadow of change was over it."

   This passage is from one of Lucy Maud Montgomery's best books, a little-known title called "The Golden Road."  The road represents childhood, which I passed out of a long time ago, but only now am leaving the path forever. I might travel it again as a guide in future years, but then again, I might not. It also represents life in general, which I'm kind of just starting. I'm moving tomorrow, which is nothing new, I'm used to that, having done it thirteen times already. But what I'm not used to is that I'll be the only one moving.

   I'll be moving into the dorms at Northeastern State University tomorrow afternoon after church lets out, where both my parents attended, most people around our area of the state end up going there. It's a smallish D-II school on the far western edge of the Ozark Mountains, most graduates probably won't ring a bell, just ordinary citizens. There was this one girl named Carrie Underwood, though...she tried out for this singing show on TV, and...well, you know the rest.

   The most famous person to grow up in the town would be Wilson Rawls, the author of bestselling classics "Summer of the Monkeys" and "Where the Red Fern Grows". He grew up just northeast of the town of Tahlequah, scratching out tales on the dirt with only his bluetick hound Rowdy to read them, and otherwise exploring the woods and working on the farm.

   Maybe someday I'll pen a book or two that resonates with people enough to keep them reading it over and over for years, or write or play a song that gets featured on radio stations around the country. Most likely neither of those will happen, though. Besides, that's way off into the misty depths of miles away down the road, and my focus right now is surviving this semester-mile that's right in front of me.
   It'll be a tough road, and I'll wonder many times where I should go from here, or how I'll get through this detour over there. But someway or another, I'll survive it, hopefully with a degree, and then shine some of God's glory back onto Him.

   Right now, I'm kind of scared. But it's time to go, like it or not. Life's an adventure, and it's always best when taken day-by-day, though quite a bit more stressful and tiring. Life's also a dance, so the song says, and you learn it as you go. That's good to know. So as I wind down this last blog post (for a while) typed on the computer in the office at home, where I wrote down many articles over the weeks chasing news stories and had a lot of conversations with friends, I know my future is in God's hands, and He'll work everything out just the way it's supposed to. That doesn't really keep me from being nervous or anxious about the journey, but it provides some comfort as I doublecheck to make sure I've packed everything.