"...The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands." Psalm 19:1
I have always loved John Denver. Maybe it’s because I’m a child of the 70s. Maybe it’s because my mom always had records playing or the radio going when I was growing up. Maybe it’s because he was a “very special guest star” on The Muppet Show. But whatever the reason, I have always felt like John Denver’s voice and music touched a place in me that was connected to innocence and home.
Since Mr. Denver’s tragic plane accident that took his life in 1997, his music has become a kind of time capsule. His music never knew a generation compassed by cellphones, Wikipedia and social media. His music was layered with hope and generosity and the kindness of the hippie-generation: Peace and love… Groovy, man.
One of my favorite John Denver songs is Take Me Home, Country Roads. If you’re over the age of twenty, I probably don’t have to remind you of the lyrics from the chorus, but just in case, here you go: Country roads, take me home/ To the place I belong /West Virginia, mountain mama / Take me home, country roads. The soulful innocence and rural passion of his voice mixed with these lyrics are simply something ethereal. It touches somewhere deep that is American, that is human, that is grounded to our place in the universe. I keep returning to it when I listen. Innocence. Home.
Recently I committed to our middle school church youth retreat. I volunteered to work in the kitchen. I would be part of a team that would make breakfast, lunch and dinner for 30 students and leaders. I have done this in years past and it’s a big job, but I have always felt like part of my life’s work is to “feed people”, so this was an easy and fun opportunity to do so.
The only drawback to my commitment was that I would have to leave at 5:30 in the morning to be at the camp in time to prepare and serve breakfast by 8:30 am. When I went to bed the night before, a question echoed in my head that often does in these situations. “Why on Earth did I offer to do this?” Waking up at 5:30 to get on the road was a daunting and unpleasant requirement I had voluntarily placed on myself. But, as I often do, I reminded myself of the reason for making the commitment in the first place: It would be fun. It would be an opportunity for service. It would be a time of fellowship. And I would get to feed people. Alarm set. The reward was greater than the missed sleep.
I have been to the camp where the retreat was taking place on numerous occasions. It's about a two hour drive, most of which is freeway driving. Something in my heart this time told me to take a different route. I am not a fan of the freeway and so I consulted my maps app. I found a parallel route through a few small towns that would take approximately the same amount of time, and would offer a reprieve from the frenetic city highway. I made the impulsive decision to take the alternative route without much thought. It would be some new scenery, a break from the expected.
I was thankful and blessed that my daughter decided to make the trip with me. While I don’t mind, and actually enjoy, long drives by myself, having her as a companion made the trip more pleasant and we always have fun in our times together. With a quick stop for gas and coffee, we pulled out of the driveway at 5:38 am. We were on our way.
It took about an hour for the sky to begin to lighten. When it did, we were in the middle of rolling country hills, crops asleep for the winter. Patches of morning fog settled along our route and gave the landscape an “otherworldly” quality. There were few other cars on the road and the ones that would join us would quickly turn off to an arterial junction and their headlights would disappear into the distance.
When the sun was up in earnest, we had arrived in a more wooded biome. Being that it was mid-November most trees had lost their autumnal colors, but a few still held onto their golden leaves and we would drive down winding roads with tunnels of nature’s majesty showing what it could do.
About thirty miles away from our destination, we were gifted with an unexpected delight. From seemingly out of nowhere, appeared a red and white covered bridge. From far off, I thought it was a barn and that the road was going to turn before approaching it, but as we got closer it was apparent that it was in fact a covered bridge, nestled in the rolling hills, flanked by trees. Something about it was simple and beautiful and innocent.
After crossing the covered bridge, our journey continued to delight as we made our way into a valley that was peppered with cattle, white farm-houses and even a flock of wild turkeys. Each turn in the road seemed to reveal a hidden treasure. As we approached camp, it almost felt like God was showing off. It felt like he was giving us a reward for taking the road less traveled; glimpses of his majesty and provision.
We arrived at the camp with plenty of time to spare. It was a fulfilling time of service and fellowship, but the true blessing hiding within the offering was the time spent driving down those country roads. The return trip was just peaceful and reflective. There was nothing to rush home to, no time-table to keep. Just the rolling hills, colorful trees, and the picturesque beauty of rural life.
How often do we speed down the freeway, eyes glassy on the road ahead? How often do we focus only on the destination and not on the journey? We shake angry fists at other travelers who cut us off or aren’t going fast enough. We leap-frog semi-trucks barreling at breakneck-speeds. We white-knuckle our way through traffic and rarely even give a glance in our rearview mirror. Is there really so much hurry in our lives that we can’t take a moment to look around and appreciate what is before us? Can we add a few minutes to our trip to breathe, look and appreciate all that is around us?
It’s really too bad that life has conditioned us to think that our destination is the only thing that is worthy of our attention. Everything around is a symphony of color and sound and water and air and miraculous life. I have always loved this quote from Jen Sincero: "We're on a planet that somehow knows how to rotate on its axis and follow a defined path while it hurtles through space! Our hearts beat! We can see! We have love, laughter, language, living rooms, computers, compassion, cars, fire, fingernails, flowers, music, medicine, mountains, muffins! We live in a limitless Universe overflowing with miracles! The fact that we aren't stumbling around in an inconsolable state of sobbing awe is appalling."
Country roads are a reminder of that limitless universe overflowing with miracles. Country roads are an opportunity to slow down, literally and figuratively. You can take in the scenery. You can witness God’s wonderful handiwork. Country roads are a chance to find your center, find your innocence and find your home… find yourself. And if you’re so inclined, maybe you can listen to a little John Denver on your way. That just might make everything pretty close to perfect.
(Songwriters: Bill Danoff / John Denver / Taffy Nivert Danoff)
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