Why is it that we assume our lives will flow like rivers
from one point to the next, rippling over the little rocks in the way?
Moving along at a consistent pace.
Sunrises followed by sunsets. Spring followed by summer...
One small wrinkle at a time, we grow older.
Until suddenly - the road turns sharply.
When we do stop to anticipate the big changes in our lives,
the storms that come are seldom the ones that we dread so much.
And is our lack of ability to see the next curve in the road a blessing or a curse?
"Teach us to number our days and recognize how few they are; help us to spend them as we should."
~ Psalm 90:12