Distant Mountain

Another blogger posted this poem today here , The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth. Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same. And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference It has personal meaning for many people I'm sure. There are also many literary interpretations. Sometimes though, it's the choices we face at crossroads whic

May be it's just that stage of one's life where being busy is a standard state of affairs? Having a full-time job, being married to a spouse who works twelve hour shifts (both day and night), with no pattern to them. A son in early secondary school, a puppy the size of a small horse, plans to re-fit the kitchen, move the shed (after the felt's been replaced following wind damage) and cook meals four or more nights a week. Between all this a faith which is growing steadily to point where I'm trying discern whether my calling is more than all the choir, church groups and commitee's I currently work for. Trying to find time to pray, be still and reflect is really difficult. But those times are so crucial. It's said, by some, that the devil sends busy-ness into our lives to distract us from God and his will for us. I'm not entirely convinced if this is the case if we are still working for God and in a manner which reflects (or at least try to) his word, but