My Yellow Brick Road

Do you think Dorothy ever tired of the yellow brick road?

Sure it was the place where everyone wanted to be – the Tin Man, Cowardly Lion, and Scarecrow seemed pretty content. But do you think from time to time, she saw the rest of her days gleaming straight ahead and looked wistfully at the mysterious wild wilderness on either side? Perhaps, just for a moment, yearning for the unpredictability of the unknown?

Today i’ve been gazing into the wilderness.

photo by shannon delmonico

My little boy is the most darling thing to ever take up residence in my life. I have an incredibly supportive husband who tells me when I’m being straight up ridiculous, keeps a stash of chocolate for me in the garage, and untangles all my necklaces. I am supremely blessed by close friends whom i admire, respect, and can watch The Bachelor with. I’m plugged in to a few world changing projects that allow me to flex my creative – and physical – muscles.

It sounds pretty yellow brick road. And it is.

But today it’s past noon and I’m still in my ratty pajamas. My shirt is coated in mucus as my babe has decided I am his human kleenex for the day. There are mashed potatoes entangled in his curls, embedded in the highchair, and lurking in about a hundred surprising areas I have yet to discover – like some sort of mucky Easter egg hunt I do each evening. The floor is spotty with pint-sized fingerprints.  I’m trying desperately trying to clean one miniscule area of the house so i feel like a competent human. But I’ve got a thirty pound butterball clinging to my leg bawling for mommy. My hubby is gone for the week. The walls seem much closer in than they were yesterday.

And I feel like the next ten years of my life are stretched out in front of me: gleaming.  rewarding I’m sure. But known.

I’ll be wrangling squirmy children and changing exploding diapers. Handing over my body to the circus freak show that is pregnancy and labor a couple more times. I’ll be yelling, “Don’t’ touch that!” and wiping jam off the walls and kissing away tears. Tinkering away at writing but putting my goals on the back burner while my husband is free to chase his own. I’ll be frustrated with my aging body and my aging dreams.

And so I’m looking deep into the woods today. What might they hold? Something daring? Magical? Terrifying? I don’t know. And that seems so enticing when i could tell you what I’ll be eating for dinner five years from now (cheeseburger soup with biscuits).

So I load ash into the car and we drive. The sun is busting through the haze and I’m annoyed because it doesn’t match my mood. Ash is babbling in the backseat and I’m singing him nonsense songs. He shoots a toothy grin at me in the rear view mirror.

And God is speaking to me in all of this – in the sun and my boy and the nonsense.

You think you know . . . He chuckles. But you don’t.

Your picture is so limited.

I see the adventure ahead.

The memories.

The struggles.

The tears.

The dreams realized. Dreams you didn’t even know you had.

The twists and turns unseen to the your naked eye.

Your path is anything but predictable.

Anything but conventional.

Anything but run-of-the-mill.

Just wait and see what I’ve got in store.

Hang on Dorothy.

9 thoughts on “My Yellow Brick Road

  1. ….thanks for sharing Megan…..your words are what i feel all too often……i’m so relieved that God’s got our paths all figured out…..and we can just wait with an excited expectation……:)
    thanks for putting it all in perspective:)

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