Journal to Christa—
We’ve been driving across Kansas today. Once one leaves the Springs, the flat lands of Eastern Colorado blend into the Kansas plains for a long, long drive. The first time Stefanie drove through Kansas to visit Chris one summer when they were dating, she swore she would never drive through Kansas again, but she has—many times, and we’re glad every time.
Though the drive through Kansas is really boring, I don’t mind it because, today, I know that 3 of our 4 children and their spouses, and 4 of our 6 grandchildren are waiting for us just across the Missouri River. We’ve planned a week of activities and have divided up the responsibilities for supper each night. So, driving through the Kansas sameness doesn’t seem as boring as it usually does.
As I drive along through Kansas, I think of all the things in life that never seem to change—the daily tasks that’ll demand my attention again tomorrow, and the weeks and months and years that kind of melt into forgetfulness. It’s easy to feel like we’re going nowhere—very slowly. But in reality, we’re moving right along. It’s easy to get frustrated with Kansas; it’s easy to get frustrated with the daily routine.
But today, Kansas doesn’t seem so bad. I think it’s because I know what waits on the other side of the Missouri River. I think it’s because even though it feels like I’m going slowly, I know I’m really not. I also know just how long it takes to drive across Kansas, and that helps.
Laughing, playing, baking cupcakes, and laughing and playing again—that’s what awaits just beyond Kansas.