RR ;)

I have had the wonderful privelege of spending a few growing up years in the country, Deep in the Heart of Texas.  Fresh out of the Shenendoah Valley, my parents brought me to this dry land of brown grass, thorned trees, giant cactus, and no rain.  It was a whole new world for my ten year old mind.   I went from being an only child in a home located in a lovely cul-de-sac, to being one of 20 cousins that would run rampant through our grandmothers home on the old family farm.

Smells of chorizo sausage and fresh tortillas would capture my attention first thing in the mornings. Roosters crowing right outside my bedroom screen were my wake up calls those first few months in my new world.  There was never a dull moment.  Shooting BB guns, chasing cows, hanging out laundry on the line with grandma, chasing cows,  feeding the chickens, chasing cows, catching bugs, chasing cows.  (OK, we really liked to chase cows!)  But, number one on the list of extreemly cool things about living at grandma's farm was: GRANDMA LIVED BY THE RAILROAD TRACKS.  

A set of rails went right through her back yard.  Oh sure, it was a small journey to get to them, but they were there! 

1) Pass the garage, play King of the Mountain on that cool pile of wood Grandpa keeps (the one where my cousin and I found a scorpion)
2) Pretend to ride the old rusty tractor that is half-way stuck in the ground - get bored
3) Go pick cactus flowers - get pricked
4) See who can reach the old trash burnin' pile first - loose the race
5) Wrestle with my cousin - win the wresting match 
6) Hold the barbed wire fence open for him to climb thru (resist the temptation to snag him with a barb)
7) Wait for him to hold the fence for me - get barbed! 

And, there they were. 

The RAILROAD TRACKS. 

OH, we were terrible! 

We always played the "tie you to the tracks/damsel in distress" game.  We threw rocks, We ran down the center of the tracks screaming "Watch out IMA TRAIIIINNNN!!!"  We looked for cool stuff that had been squashed by the train and then...we would hear a faint pinching sound.  Immediatly, we would drop to our stomachs and our breathing would become shallow.  Ears to the rail.  (from there, I could smell the iron track) It is warm against my cheek. YES!  It's coming!  It's still far, (my hands are barely vibrating).  Wait.  See who stays the longest.  Now my hands are getting warm, the screeching is getting louder and louder, (it hurts to have my ear on the track).  "I see it!", I yell.  I want to run, but I love to feel the tracks heat rising.  The sting on my hands from the vibration becomes too intense and I stand, foot on each rail.  The whistle is blaring, I know the engineer sees us.  I stare at him heading my direction for just a second more and DIVE for the fenceline, cousin close behind.  Now, we stand and wave frantically.  The engineer knows us by now.  The wind from the train pushes us to the ground silly with excitement.  We count each car.  The wind dies down.  It's over for the day.  Not another train will come until 10 pm.

We did not stay in the country.  We eventually moved south.  South, to "town".  I now live across the street from those same rails.  The same two o'clock train still passes.  I still get a little giddy at the thought of being able to feel the wind pressing against me.  Smelling the rails, feeling the coming danger and staring it in the eye.  Feeling brave, invinceable, and in control.

Now you see it.  Do you not?  It's all there. 

Life sometimes gives us NO warning signs.  The faint rumbling of coming dangers sometimes cannot be detected with all the goings on of life.  There we are, looking for cool things.  Pretending to be something we are not, all the while yelling at the top of our lungs.  Tying each other up in relationships, jobs, addictions....life.  Then it comes.  We don't expect it.  There is just nothing to give the alarm that something terrible is headed our way.  How do you feel brave in the middle of a storm.  How can you feel invinceable when your pride is dashed, and you don't know how to face the next day?  How can you be in control when life has knocked you down so hard that you cannot find your feet? 

I have had more of those days than I care to count.  The day I ran over my child.  The day I lost that dear cousin to a senseless addiction.  The day I found out about the other woman.  The day the pink slip was handed over. The day she said, "your father is dead".  Make no mistake, the ground DID NOT shake.  Piercing sounds? -no.  Not so much as a faint whistle in the distance to let me know what was about to occur.   When I looked around, life was happening, and yet a train was slamming into my brain. 

So what do you do when that occurs? 

I am reminded of the Prophet Elijah.  He was done, spent, completely expended and he sat down in the desert under a tree and said "take my life."  Facing one more moment seemed like too much to ask.   Soon, a terrible wind came, an earthquake, and even FIRE.  He expected God to do something, to make some miracle occur. He wanted God to CHANGE things, as only He can.  Yet, God was silent in all of it. God was quiet as NATURE roared around him only adding to his dismay.  After the storms had passed, a gentle breeze was blowing.  It was then, God spoke.

AFTER?  WHY AFTER?  WHY is God so silent when things go crazy? 

Why not change the course of the storms?  WHY does he speak after?

Why not just STOP THE TRAIN?  WHY DOES HE wait to speak AFTER?

When the train has passed, and the pressing wind has stopped, the gentled breeze is the indicator that its over.  The funeral home has locked its doors,  divorce papers were signed weeks ago, new resumes sent out.  And God is there.  He whispers. Go back to the tracks.  That is, after all what he told Elijah to do.  He sent him BACK into the wilderness. 

Why does he want us to visit the place that seemingly destroyed us?

Because those rails make us who we are.  They define us.

You see, the tracks were more than just a wild distraction every day, those weathered rails were majestic to us. They connected us to everything. We would face south and say: "That's the way to town! The train is going to TOWN!!!" Then, I would face north. There, my heart would swell. Those tracks went north. NORTH!  North, to the Shenendoah Valley, where trees have names like HICKORY, MAPLE, and most importantly DOGWOOD. North, where creeks are named after Indian tribes that my family hailed from. North where hills are impressive enough to be named, and the word "holler" is a noun and not a verb. Those tracks kept me connected. Connected to everything I had once known.

The trains of life pass us, sometimes knocking us to the ground, breathless and shaking.  Sometimes stretching out in front of us, giving us a glimpse of who we are and who we can be.

Visit your tracks, feel brave, invinceable and in control.  Know that those rails made you the amazing person you are today.  Follow them to who you're going to be in your tomorrows.