Missteps and Sure Strides

A mom was tired as she walked the gentle slope toward the light. Her arms were laden, and her burdens were heavy. Her boys were ahead—happy, excited. Starting the fire, they thought of food and camping and fun.

The mom stumbled on. It is good for the fire to get going. It would take more walking to go get her boys and ask them to carry items. She was a very strong mom after all. She could carry it all. Of course.

She wandered forward. Eyes to the ground, the flashlight fading slowly. In the periphery, the bright light was ahead, so she stepped and stepped again. Hunched over, to balance the broken backpack on her back, she walked on with heavy bags in each hand. It felt so much further this time.

Set the bags down, readjust, and keep walking. She’s sure she’ll be with her boys soon! The bright light is right . . . there.

Wait. This is not . . .

Where . . .

Oh.

Back there.

Focused on the weight she carried and eyes fixed to the ground, relying on the bright light in her periphery, the mom missed the mark and marched far past her destination. 

So she sighed, readjusted again, and retraced the path as best as she could.

The ground was uneven; the plants were pokey; the rocks were unexpected. Shuffle and grasp, getting closer. Hearing the laughing, seeing the small light, carrying the burden, she was almost there.

And then she was.

There.

Mama, don’t miss your mark by focusing only on your toes. You may end to find the path you trod was not the path you meant. Following the flashiest brightest light could make you miss the low dim glow of where your family is waiting for you. You can make it back to them eventually, but the journey will be hazardous and take longer than if you had directly gone to the goal you actually wanted. Lastly, yes, you are a strong mom, but just because you can does not mean you should, and burdens are meant to be shared.

Have a wonderful weekend camping, dear mama. I love you, missteps and sure strides and all.