One of my favorite singers is the late Chris LeDoux. I picked up on him during my rodeo "phase" back in the 1990's. Chris's music was a little country and a lot of western themed rock and roll. One thing about Chris is that he always stayed true to his set of values; it probably cost him a lot more fame and fortune but that didn't matter much to him. What mattered was being able to look himself in the mirror each morning, knowing he was being true to himself and the things he believed. Now, I'm fairly certain Chris and I wouldn't have seen eye to eye on a lot things. I'm guessing he was a little more conservative than I am; but that's OK. Anyway, Chris did a cover of Tom Cochran's "Life is a Highway" (The same song that Rascal Flats has butchered recently) a few years back. It's a great road trip song.
Life is a highway. Despite wanting life to be a path, tree-lined and covered with lush grass, I think too often life is a highway. Think about the analogy; we speed along, cutting off the other guy, swearing at the guy that does the same thing to us, isolated in our little cruising machines, totally unaware of what's going on around us.
If you don't believe me think about this:
On the same day that 9 (so far) people died on the I-35W bridge in Minneapolis, 18 to 20 million people were made homeless in India and Bangladesh due to monsoon rains. Not to downplay the loss of those people in Minneapolis, the loss and pain their families and communities have felt is real. The entire event is painful and we can (and will) go on assigning blame to various individuals and entities. However, in my mind the real tragedy is that we've had days upon days of coverage of the bridge incident and how that was going to affect a couple hundred thousand people on their daily commutes, yet there wasn't a single mention of the tragedy in Asia. Cruising along, totally unaware of what's going on around us.
I'm about to embark on a new path in life. In a little less than two weeks I'm starting an M.A. program in Theology at St. John's University here in Minnesota. I hope to some day be ordained as a Deacon in the United Methodist Church. It's been 17 years since I stepped foot into a class room; I'm excited, nervous, and a little apprehensive. Mostly though, I'm hoping and praying that this path doesn't become that highway that Chris sang about.