REST STOP

Many miles ago, a piece of wisdom was handed to me wrapped up in wax paper and delivered in a brown paper bag.

It had been assembled earlier that morning - two pieces of soft, white bread, slathered with mustard and carefully layered first with slices of bologna, then cheese, and firmly pressed down together for good measure.

Nothing has ever fed my soul more.

“Are we there?” I had asked when the car slowed, expecting to see the promised motel swimming pool.

“Not yet,” Mommy answered, pointing to the sign that read “Michigan Roadside Park."

My sweaty legs stood and stretched while Daddy dragged a picnic table over to a maple tree so Mommy could set up lunch in the shade.

I scooted across the bench, facing the expressway glare, a cool forest breeze tickling the back of my bare arms and scattering napkins which Daddy chased down, much to our delight.

Then the four of us dined like kings on sandwiches and chips, cheering when the red pop came out of the cooler to wash it all down. 

Time stood still, if just for a moment.

Station wagons sped by our simple feast, a glimpse of young faces pressed against a side window, parents leaning forward as if to see happiness just ahead.

Our destination called to us as well, but vacations were rare those days. It hardly seemed like a crime to steal a few more moments from a season that passed too quickly.

After all, wouldn’t we all eventually arrive where we were meant to be? 

Years later, I find myself agreeing with the timeless wisdom once passed out at a roadside park and hand my husband a bologna sandwich, paying no attention to the cars whizzing by or the watch on my wrist.

So many things to do, so many miles to travel, yet it can all wait while we make a memory or two along the way.

“Everything that happens in this world happens at the time God chooses.”

Ecclesiastes 3:1 GNT