This weekend, filled with diaper changes, kids yelling and laughing, and coughing... lots of coughing ( recovering from the flu is no fun ) held no big plans for us.
I decided to skip church this Sunday, due to the coughing and we struck out for the park. This was my solution for helping my sleeping husband and getting the kids out of the house we have all been stuck in for the past week. The park didn't last long however, as Travis quickly bumped his head and Maddy grew bored. Inspiration hit me as I saw that there were newly constructed trails near the back of the park.
We entered the filtered, quiet woods and were instantly transformed into adventurers. As I watched the kids marching down the trail, the Robert Frost poem, The Road not Taken kept running through my head.
As the poem ran through my head over and over, it hit me quickly and forcefully. My boring weekend is in essence, the road I took. The choices I made for the past thirteen years had led me to this day, on this weekend, of this strangely warm and beautiful February afternoon. I was here, talking about the different trees, singing songs and marching through the sun dappled trails of this small city park with the four human beings that belong to my husband and I. Human beings that wouldn't be here, soaking up the sunshine and getting gloriously dirty as we wound around the trails if not for the decisions I made, and the road I chose to take.
Would it be nice to get a day to sleep in. A night to go enjoy adult time? YES. Those days, those nights would be wonderful. But the road I chose, led me down a different path. One filled with the squeals of my two year old. One in which I am constantly counting heads in a crowd- One, two, three and four.... over and over and over.
I am grateful for the reminder. I am grateful for the beauty found in the moment. I am grateful for this beautiful day.