A friend recently asked me to describe what it has been like to walk the past six weeks. Let me paint a picture for you.
It is 3:13 in the morning and you’ve been driving all day through Kansas trying to make it to Colorado. The highway is dark and it is all you can do to keep your eyes open. Every so often you find yourself waking up to a loud “whrrrrr”, when you suddenly realize you are about to make friends with the corn field.
The only thing keeping you going is the image of the brown and white “Welcome to Colorful Colorado” sign at the state line. You keep reminding yourself ” If I can just make it that far, I’ll be home in no time!”.
Just as you are about to call Kansas home, the Colorado state line finally decides to show up, only to be greeted with a mile marker saying you’ve got 160 miles more to go to reach the exit. Feeling utterly dejected, sleep deprivation kicks in and you begin sobbing like a madman. You finally come to and begin doing the math – that’s 2.2 hours at 70 mph. If I bump it up to 75, I can make it in….
Every 15 minutes, you check the mileage, do the math, and see if you are picking up time. “Rats, I lost 5 minutes…need to pick up the pace….”
2.3 hours later, you finally make it to the exit for Colorado Springs. By this time, you’ve lost all sense of hand-eye coordination, taking the exit at 5 mph, your eyes peeled to the road and handling each curve with care. “I can do this” you repeat to yourself over and over….
You turn left off the exit, only to be greeted by another mile marker: 56 miles to Colorado Springs. You stare at the sign in unbelief. 56 miles through curvy roads with no street lights. 56 miles stuck behind a horse trailer going 20 miles per hour. 56 miles = 2 more Mountain Dews. 56 miles…..
It is during those 56 miles, though, that you finally begin to see daylight. Just enough daylight to navigate the road. Just enough daylight to cause a McDonalds to open ( can you say “caffeine”?) Just enough daylight to watch a beautiful Colorado morning sunrise while you meander rolling hills littered with cows and horses. Just enough daylight for you to see Grandpa put his arms around his grandson as they meander the hills, too.
Just enough daylight to bring you home where you finally find rest.