“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“When will we be there?”

“When we get there.”

“Is it the next stop sign?”

“Not even close.”

“How much farther?”

“305 miles.”

“How many feet is that?”

Really? Did she just ask me that? She really DID ask me that. She told me to “Google it.” She’s five.

Every journey is paved with anticipation. Some journeys are filled with an eagerness to arrive, others with anxiety for the trip and what lies ahead. We all want to know, “When are we going to get there?”

Do you remember that first meeting with your true love? You watch as he drives away, wondering will I ever see him again? Will he call? Will I call? Is he really the one? 

How about your wedding day? The day that most every girl prepares for, starting around . . . birth. Curtains, sheets, anything long and flowing, your most prized Sunday dress, and your mom’s heels suddenly turn into do you have the rings? Did we remember the rings? We can’t do this without the rings. Is he there? Please tell me he is actually at the altar.

From the time I first felt the flutter of my tiny baby move, I could not wait for her arrival. I prepared, I dreamed, I tried to stay busy and get things done, but it’s tough. The days, the minutes—they slow to a crawl as you just . . . 

WAIT. 

Her first steps . . . is she EVER going to take a step? “Come on, baby. Come to Mommy. You can do it.”

Like a child going to Grandma’s house after such a long time waiting, with weeks, months of letters and phone calls. Or waiting on Christmas morning for the opportunity to rip into an endless sea of excitement, but not before that one last moment of doubt—will there be anything under the tree for me?

The Christian life is so very similar. We live with the promise of something bigger, better, more amazing than one could ever imagine. Yet, we look around day after day and see hatred, heartache, depression, lost souls. I can’t help but wonder, I’m sure you do too, “When are we going to get there?”

When are the suffering and pain going to end?

Turn on the television, the radio, a computer and day after day after day . . . shootings in schools, churches, movie theaters . . . bombings . . . protests and riots . . . wars . . . terrorism . . . school bullying . . . teenage suicide . . . child abuse . . . domestic violence . . . kidnapping . . . human trafficking . . . the list is limitless. My mind cannot comprehend. 

When is it going to end? When are we going to get there? How much further? Is this ride EVER going to end?

The Bible promises us in Revelation 21:4 that “[God] will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” God is going to dwell with us, and we with Him—forever.

The ride IS going to come to an end. We ARE going to get there, though while we are in the midst of the struggles, pain, fear, and tears, it seems like there are no emergency lanes, no exits, no pitstops. We have a promise to cling to and so much hope ahead, but some days it feels like we are stuck on a two-lane road in the middle of nowhere with no radio signal or cell service. It’s raining, the wipers aren’t working, and there is no shoulder to pull off for a break. Can it get any worse? I fear it can; I pray it can’t.

Until we reach the end of our journeys, may we cling to one another and live with excited anticipation. May we continue to look ahead at our destination and not focus on our current situation. Let our fears not drive us, but instead let love guide us . . . stay the course. If it’s dark, we turn on the headlights. If the radio isn’t working, we make our own music. Let us live with love and never stop praying . . . no signal is needed for that call. One day, my friend, we WILL get there. Please hop in the car and take the ride with me; let’s carpool this long, winding road of life together and share joy and peace along the way. Together, never give up even when the trip seems long and like we are too late. Let’s pick up hitchhikers along the way, share the love, and just keep driving . . . 

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

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Amanda Almond

My name is Amanda Almond and I am a former public-school teacher.  I hold a Master's of Education degree and taught Kindergarten for 6 years.  My last year in the classroom (year 7), I began teaching K-2 math before leaving the profession to be a stay-home mom to my first-born child, a daughter.  Now, almost 8 years later, I am still a stay-home, homeschooling mommy.  I spend a lot of time alone with my 4 girls because my husband is a truck driver.  I have recently decided to begin sharing my life with anyone who would like to read my stories.  It is therapeutic for me and hopefully someone can benefit from reading about our wild and crazy life.

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