The Broken Road

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Everyone has heard that phrase “everything happens for a reason”.  No matter the religious affiliation, or lack there of, people spout off variations of this quote as a way to make sense of events in their lives.  Maybe it is a way to give us hope, or validate our faith.  Or simply because as humans our minds are always working overtime trying to analyze and categorize the information it receives.

So here is one of those “E.H.F.A.R.”  moments in my story, and it is quite explosive indeed.  As I have shared on here before, my Hubby and I moved to Ireland in 2008.  It was at the tail end of the Celtic Tiger and to say finding housing was difficult is an understatement.  But we ended up getting a very nice brand new apartment in South Dublin.  It was quite handy though as it was walking distance to Hubby’s office.  So he would come home everyday for lunch.  However we often said that we wished we had been able to move into another apartment we looked at just around the corner.  It was older, quainter and very Irish.  I mean, when you move somewhere across the globe you kinda want a different experience, a more local indigenous feel.  At least we do.  As much as we wanted it and as much as we tried, we didn’t get it.  Because the owner was away on holidays and we literally had one day to find a place, the real estate agent said she wasn’t able to get in touch with him.  We were heading back to L.A. to pack up our things for the move and couldn’t wait around in Dublin until his return.  Oh well.

When we were settled into our new place, which we called our “could be anywhere in the world box” we would still look longingly at this darling multilevel cottage.  In Ireland they call it a semi detached house.  It came complete with a cozy fireplace (aw, boo hoo, our fav) and had lovely brick facing.  Everyday we walked passed it we would grumble a bit under our breath, why couldn’t we live here?

Well one day, we got our answer.  It happened to be on, of all days, a Friday the 13th!  I had to drive out to Abbylix (a little over an hour from Dublin) for a meeting and wasn’t at home all day.  Hubby walked home for his usual lunch.  While there tucking into a bowl of cereal he heard the most incredibly loud and powerful explosion.  He didn’t know what it was, but soon found out what. The place we wished we had lived in had just blown up due to a gas leak. Luckily no one was killed. The reason is because no one was in there. Had there been someone there surely they would have perished.  Several people on the street were injured by the flying debris of the blast.  And to this very day, the home has yet to be rebuilt.  Now every time we pass it, we don’t grumble we give thanks!  For us it is a stark reminder of how things happen for a reason. Here is a link to a news video about the house blast.

As I write this post I am in Clarksville, Tennessee.  My son, a captain in the U.S. Army, is about to take command of his new company.  There will be a change of command ceremony this morning.  A very proud moment for our family.  I think about his own journey to get to this juncture.  But that is his story to tell.  However, as his mom I am witness to his “broken road that led him” to this place.  It is not a coincidence that it was a song by famous Rascal Flatts called “Bless the Broken Road” that was the first dance song at my son and his wife’s wedding.  It is so important to them in fact that my son even had the lyrics framed for one of their anniversaries.

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Take a moment in your own life to reflect on what are your broken roads that led you to say, ‘things happen for a reason.” We may not always know the reasons at the moment, but in hindsight we often discover that it was all meant to be.

Faithful Love,

YDP

ps. I know this is corny (but I am the queen of corn) but I am currently sitting in the hotel lobby writing this and the song “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey just started playing.  I can’t listen to this song without thinking of my friend Stacy Smith. She visited us in Ireland a couple of times and just recently asked me to retell her this story of the house explosion.  She retells it to many people she knows that are frustrated when things aren’t happening the way in which they want.  Not that I recommend this, but when you see a stark visual reminder like a photo of a destroyed home, you kind of start to put it all in perspective.

 

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