Dawdling Among the Roses

My first thought was that I could go up to REI to get camping supplies for my reset road trip. After all, I leave in only ten days. Instead, I practiced for my cross-country solo drive. First, I went in one direction, and when I felt like it, I turned. Then, in a bit, I turned again. I admired the countryside as the rain wet my windshield. In time I found myself in a nearby small town. I spotted a gazebo, creek, and trees. Why had I never noticed this park before?

No matter, the park and I were together today. My mind wandered as I walked the paths beside the creek, but it was the rose garden where I dawdled. It was there that my mind wandered back to my childhood. An old man at my church gave me a rosebud for my lapel each Sunday morning. Though only six years old, being given that flower meant I mattered to him.

When I was ready, I returned to the car and headed home. This was not a productive trip in the traditional sense. No errands or tasks were completed. Instead, I was present with myself; I offered myself kindness and stillness. And I remembered an old man whose simple action said I was God’s beloved.

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