My Kentucky vacation mornings are starting out much the same way my Texas every-day-mornings do...a walk with Tuck and a cup of coffee.
Only here we get to walk on a Kentucky farm and my cup of coffee is shared with my friend and her 2-year-old, and Tuck gets thrown in the back yard with her five dogs.
I found this field. Not like it was hard to find, it's behind the barn and not far from her house, perfect walking distance for Tuck and I. From here, it looks like a contiguous field.
It wasn't until we kept walking, right up to the edge, that we discovered it's not continuous at all.
There's a road there, right through the middle of what we saw was two fields.
We walked all the way down the road and back. Of course, for me it's not just a once-invisible road in the middle of two fields. It's a metaphor for a lot of what life looks like for me right now.
The road is my hope, but to find it, I have to walk right up to the edge and maybe take a first step into the unknown before I see it stretching before me.
I've just got to figure out: what's my edge? what's my unknown?