When the way is lost

 

Christmas morning, I finally did it. 

I hiked the magnificent Konza Prairie with my son. In the snow.

We had decided to postpone whooping it up in the traditional yuletide ways of trees and gifts and roasted turkey on the platter. Our family would be together later in the week and so we chose something else. A walk along 2.5 or 6 miles of tallgrass prairie.

After the cinnamon buns rose and baked and the coffee was drunk, we bundled up and drove a cycle-ride south of Manhappiness, past the silent library and faithful gathered at the Catholic Church on the corner.

Though I expected that we would make the first tracks along the trails that morning, I was wrong. Someone had already left their footprints in the snow.

A human or two, countless mice, a bobcat, a few turkeys, and what must have been young deer, had already made the way.

The day was so brilliant and crisp and the company so good, and finally my weary heart within me felt excitement true. 

Snow crunching over the limestone trail.

A wee bit of wheezing as we reached the summit of “radio tower” hill.

I left a snow angel at the top of that hill. (A secret: yeah-it was fun, but I REALLY needed an excuse to rest.)

My son and I walked mostly in quiet as the southwind was curiously still that blue-sky day.

It is good to be home where the buffalo (bison really) roam and my best friends are half of a block away from the Hobbit House where I live.

Our morning walks are bitter and the cold freezes my running tights to my legs. But it is so good to be home for the season among family and the familiar. 

The prairie.

The Zoo.

The splash park and farmer’s market.

Purple.

WildCats and wonder.

But.

(I hate the Buts.)

I have struggled with the promises broken and the plans that changed so violently.

My faith has taken a hit.

And yet, my friend and pastor has invited me in to “check in” though he knows I’m crustier than a baguette.

And the sun rises.

Snow falls.

And somewhere the North Star shines.

I must find it.

Find true north and all that.

Whatever it is that illuminates the way forward.

And if it is true that I am here because I believed a great lie, than it is the truth that I seek.

Come with me.

We can make tracks in the snow under the great sky.

* * *

Take Me Home, Phil Collins

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About allielousch

Engaged in everyday adventures and derring do.
This entry was posted in General Posts, There is a lot I don't know. Bookmark the permalink.

10 Responses to When the way is lost

  1. Heidi says:

    This is beautiful, Allie. Both the writing and the message and the heart behind it. Miss you.

  2. Laura j says:

    I’ll search with you… And in the waiting for the search to be the found, we’ll laugh 🙂

  3. April says:

    Seeking, searching, but can I do is on a sunny beach? Love you Allie!

  4. heidi says:

    squirrels and coffee and love and star gazing. i’m down. let’s discover.

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