Two roads... or go back.

I took the back way to  town yesterday to get my Easter groceries.  Just a little way farther down this road, I came to a fork..  One way was too filled with ruts, no gravel...  it looked bleak.  The other was well paved but clearly marked, "Dead End.  Private Property.  Do Not Trespass."  So, as in life, I doubled back the way I had come and retraced that road back into oh-so-familiar territory....  So, Mr, Frost, there remained a third choice that day in your yellow wood, right?

That doubling back, revamping, and going again...and often again.... that is such a metaphor for my life as I rededicate, turn around, avoid the difficult, almost impassable paths and also the attractive drives that are evidently not meant for me,  and make my way past well-worn and familiar.  Sunshine and shadow, the good Lord leads us through.

The Road Not Taken

Robert Frost

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;          Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,          And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.          I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.