The Extra Mile

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Talking with our son about work. Effort.

The difference between being done and finishing.

That there is honour in the work. Good things.

The difference between doing good and your best.

That the good stuff is always found there. The extra mile.

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Talking with our son about life. Faith.

The difference between belief and faith.

That believing without seeing is real. Good things.

The difference between the rest stop and the extra mile.

The right stuff is always found there. It ain’t crowded.

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Talking with my husband about love. Us.

The difference between fighting for or against.

That knowing we stand together is the good stuff.

The difference between together and for one another.

We have found each other and ourselves on the extra mile.

 

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The dVerse Poetics prompt got me thinking last night about the extra mile. And how it ain’t crowded there. And it isn’t the place where you go when you are done but when you are finished. That’s where the good stuff is, where the great love found in doing small things grows wild. It’s about faith. It’s about teaching the next generation. It’s about love. And a bit of reflection – what if we had quit at good, or done? We wouldn’t have found the amazing blessings and richness of each other and our faith – it only exists when you go the extra mile.

Thanks to my Padre Kevin Weatherby who always encourages us to go there. Find out more at savethecowboy.org , find them on Facebook and Twitter.

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Unpaved Roads

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I believe I’ve been on the road for a million miles.

Does it show? I wonder about the wear and tear.

1 lane, two lane, three, four, five. Freeway. Highway.

NO WAY! Don’t go THAT WAY! 

Flat top. Crowned gravel. Seasonal dirt. Grassy track.

The road less traveled is the one to take…

Passing lane – never enough. Slow lane – baugh!

…and yet if they take it all we’ll have to seek another.

Fast lane. Hammer down. Buck sixty. Po po gotta go.

I prefer the gravel road. Fields and old telephone poles.

People all have to pitter patter, get atter.

Slow down. It surely is the journey that is best.

Waiting for the school bus. Grader. Tractor.

Seeing the eagle. Owl. BEAR! Deer. Slowing down.

Always in such a rush. Blank look when they HIT.

No crosswalks for critters or old farmers. They just go.

NowaymanitcameOUTTAnowhere. BANG. Blame.

Slow it down. See what God put there to see. Yes. That.

I have to make it on time but I won’t rush this.

The journey isn’t about gas milage. Or time. It just is.

See what everyone else has missed in their rush.

I see the best things on slower, unpaved roads.

The only screen is the ‘windscreen’ and wow!

Can you see what I see? Slow down, roll the window down.

Be late every now and again catching jet streams.

I love the open road. The mountains. The prairie. Foothills.

Gotta rush. Gotta go. Get there. Get back.

Memories are made of stuff that moves slow.

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Coming back to dVerse for the first time in a LONG time. Did you miss me? I surely missed you. Hope you don’t mind my rambling take on the Tuesday Poetics prompt.