WHERE ROADS CAN’T GO
It’s just a plain old road, not so different than all the others, but roads, like folks, are never exactly the same and each one has it’s own story.
This story is about “Fifty-Sixth”. Fifty-Sixth Street is its proper name, but to me personally it’s memory lane. I was reminded the Saturday winter morning I walked down my memory lane.
“I’m late – I don’t have time to bring you back!” my wife said apologetically on her way to work. “That’s alright, I’ll walk back,” I answered, “I’ll do that instead of going to the gym.”
The Seventy Six gas station, where I get my truck worked on sometimes, is a couple miles north of us on fifty-sixth. My brakes had been screaming at me for a couple of weeks before I finally made time and gave in to the shrill demands.
I sipped my coffee from the old but hefty insulated mug I got from the kids several Christmases back as I hoofed it back south on fifty-sixth, the sun just beginning to crawl up the west side of the tan stuccoed walls flanking the road, my side still enveloped in forty-four degree shade.
I thought about the stretch of pavement when it was a dirt road, long before anyone ever heard of a “Loop 101”. This once dirt road would grow into a two lane blacktop and eventually a four lane with a center island that feeds the giant circle the wraps around the sixth largest city in the U.S.
I gazed over the aging neighborhoods on both sides of “Fifty-Sixth” that I’d helped build like Henry Ford did cars. I can’t remember now exactly which roofs I fell off of, or the single stories I jumped off of while racing my co-workers to the roach coach, (lunch truck). The scars from the sharp end of the sixteen penny nails on my chest that slowed my fall from two stories up that ripped me open are almost gone now. I did dumb things on and around that street, lived like hell is an understatement.
I can’t recall either which house was the last one I worked on with my hands before they made me the boss. I walked past the apartments that used to be called Arabian Trails, named for all the horse farms that are now streets and houses as far as the eye can see. I recall a night there, lonely, divorced, my business decimated by the IRS, my face in the filthy and worn out carpet, my pride finally surrendered to God’s last move and firm affirmation of, “Checkmate”.
By the time I got to the high school the sun flashed through the fence pickets like a strobe light, every four inches, a flash representing every memory along “Fifty-Sixth”. I thought about Kenz and Ali’s graduations on that field, the same field I coached them on. I remember all the girls, good girls, and my wife’s wisdom to know that coaching was my calling at the time.
A couple blocks from my street I crossed over to the sunny west side, knees aching and nose running. I punched in the code to the gate and the voice crackled from the tiny speaker, “Access granted. Please enter.” That old road has played an integral part in my life, but it’s not the physical roads we travel that really matter.
Although I live in the same area, I’m not the same person. Traveling up and down on “Fifty-Sixth” reminds me of the power of God to change lives. As the big gates to my street and house swung open, I thought about this road of life and my eventual destination and the pearly gates that await me. I smiled through watering eyes at the thought of my Father’s voice, “Welcome home, son.”
Bill (cycelguy)
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 5:31 am
I love it Floyd. Tommy James once had a song called “Smoky Roads” on their Crimson & Clover album. It talked about going back to where we grew up as kids. I love your reminiscing here. Reminds me of many places I can go back to if I ever go back to PA.
Floyd
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 6:20 pm
I’ll have to look that song up, you know I like Tommy James! As soon as I got in the door that day, I penned that post. It was definitely a walk down memory lane that I’ve never taken before… Probably shouldn’t again! Thanks, Bill.
David
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 7:53 am
Some of the best memories I have with my own kids have been the periodic trips through “memory lane” when we’ve traveled to the city I grew up in and taken the time to drive around my old stompin’ grounds. Our kids so often just see us as “parents” (as they roll they’re eyes at us 🙂 ) or “old” or both. They get the impression sometimes that all we’re made of are old and wearing-out parts, held together by the glue of the most over used word in the parental vocabulary – “no”. They are surprised to learn we had a pre-parenthood history; we pooped our pants, skinned our knees, picked our noses, got in trouble, etc. It gives rise to the opportunity for them to see that we’re not just “parents” – we’re “people” – not necessarily just aliens from another planet sent here to embarrass them … 😉
Floyd
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 6:22 pm
I thought that’s what we were sent for? No, you’re right, they get such a kick from hearing the stories that make us more relatable and real. It’s a blessing to be able to share our lives with them. Thanks, David. It’s great to hear from you, brother.
Lincoln Parks
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 11:30 am
Your last words rang out to me Floyd. Although you live in the same area, you are not the same person. That is so true and rare for lots of us. Many of us stay in those areas and change. Others, haven’t realized their change yet or haven’t accepted the facts.
Floyd
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 6:26 pm
Good point, Lincoln. It’s easy to get settled in an area and not ever change our perspective then our actions. A wake up call comes to all of us at one time or another. Mine was loud and clear. Thanks, Lincoln.
Sharon
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 12:51 pm
What a great story. Floyd, you really should consider writing a book. You have such a way of bringing the reader right along with you. And your *lessons* are great.
We’ve had my mom up here with us in the mountains for the first time since we moved here two years ago. She’s been with us for a week now. I’m so proud of how she’s *walking* her road right now. Not easy losing my dad after almost 62 years of marriage, but she’s doing it, and doing it well. It’s funny, she’s 81 now, but when she says something good about me, it still thrills my heart. I’ve been doing crosswords sitting next to her on the couch, and every time I finish one I show it to her. And she says something like, “Oh my, look at you. You’re so smart.” I just glow, like I’m 5 again.
Your walk down Memory Lane made me think of the life that I have lived. And this week, in the face of my dearly loved mom, I’ve been able to remember some of the really good stuff.
GOD BLESS!
Floyd
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 6:30 pm
Awe, good for you, Sharon! I’m with you. We get older, but we’re still all someone’s children. You and I are blessed with the parents God gave us. I still appreciate when my mom tells me nice things too. I guess we’re all five year olds at heart…
I’ve written a couple of manuscripts and am in the middle of two more… One of these days! Thanks for your kind words, Sharon. I appreciate them like a five year old, sister. You have a wonderful heart and gift of encouragement.
David Rupert
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 1:23 pm
I work at a place that requires a badge for access. I always hold my breath when I swipe, wondering if yesterday was my last day. I have a recurring nightmare of me shuffling back to my car wondering where I ‘ll go.
Thank goodness my eternity is secure. There’s no wondering at the end.
Floyd
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 6:32 pm
I’m with you, David. There’s so much unknown, the hope or confidence we have in our entrance to where we get to be with our Father is a certainty. I don’t really think we’ll be seeing St. Peter at the pearly gates, but it’s just where my mind went! Good call, David. We know on the One place we’ll never be turned away from.
Audra Krell
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 5:09 pm
This is just great. I loved every second of your memories, especially since I live around here to picture them. I really love hearing another piece of the story, we are all so much more than “right now”. There is before, now and what’s to come. Thanks for taking us along for part of the journey Floyd.
Floyd
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 6:36 pm
Well said, wise sister. “There is before, now and what’s to come.” And we’re so different than we were. Proof of our Father’s wisdom upon us.
Now that you mention it, I was side swiped by a car that looked a lot like yours that day… Hey, were you? Naw… you wouldn’t do that… Or would you! Kidding, I know you drive by this neighborhood every day. Thanks, Audra. It’s great to hear from you, my friend.
Hazel Moon
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 5:35 pm
The road less traveled is the one you now walk on! What a blessed post a trip down memory land, but understanding how God can change the person and create new memories.
That must have been a long walk. As kids we walked everywhere. A mile to Jr High, but that wasn’t enough. On Weekends Mom took us for hikes down different neighborhoods to view the lay outs. Sorry about the falls off roofs, even one story can do a number on your ankles. Thank for allowing this story to be on my ‘Tell me a True Story site.” http://letmetelluastory.blogspot.com/
Floyd
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 6:39 pm
Yes, the road less traveled… finally! Good reminder, Hazel. I know Robert could tell some stories of falling off roofs too! Thanks for sharing this at your wonderful site! http://letmetelluastory.blogspot.com/ Funny how our mind can work when we’re using our oldest form of transpiration… Thanks, Hazel.
Barb Raveling
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 6:20 pm
Love hearing about your trip down memory lane, Floyd. So many of your stories are a sweet glimpse into your life. You really do have a gift with words.
Floyd
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 6:41 pm
I think the glimpses aren’t so different for all of us. That’s what makes real life stories so relatable. Nothing like a parable to learn a lesson or story that we don’t forget as easily! I guess we all learned that a long time ago! What a blessing. Thanks for your kind and uplifting words, Barb.
Nannette and the Sweetheart
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 7:52 pm
Gosh, I was walking right there with you Floyd…although probably struggling to keep up, lol. That was a wonderful trip, thank you for allowing us to “join you”.
Floyd
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 5:49 pm
I always appreciate good company, Nannette! And I don’t know, I was moving a bit slow! Thanks, Nannette. Great to hear from you!
Rick Dawson
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 8:26 pm
I knew – without knowing for fact – that you and I trod the same mean streets, but I’m grateful that neither of us feels the need to run every red light on memory lane so we can get to the “good stuff” – because, with God’s grace, everything becomes useful – every failure a teaching point, every success another opportunity to point to Him and say “Not to us, o Lord…”
I know I’d love to see more of Phoenix than Sky Harbor, and you’d be the perfect tour guide for me. Thanks for sharing, Floyd! 🙂
Floyd
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 5:51 pm
I concur, my friend. The mean streets have left scars on both of us, but point to the power of our Father over His creation. I’d love to give you a tour! If you get to Phoenix you let me know. We’ll paint the town blue! Thanks, Rick. Good to hear from you, brother.
saleslady371
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 8:36 pm
Thank you for taking us down memory lane and sharing all the changes. Your post is inspiring because you answered the call to higher ground. Very touching!
Floyd
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 5:52 pm
Thanks, Mary. We all have our memories and things we regret. Come with wisdom, which only comes from He who designed us and grants grace to all. Blessings upon you and all of yours, sister.
Lynn Morrissey
Monday, April 21, 2014 @ 10:28 pm
Floyd, you sure do know how to spin a yarn or a road as the case may be, and you always know how to bring it home to a spiritual point, and in this case the home for which all Christians long. It was an exciting feeling for me to go back to the house where I lived during my childhood. Of course, everything had shrunken. My husband, at that time a housing inspector, had been assigned to inspect that house, and he said I could accompany him as an “assistant” if I promised not to utter a peep. Boy, was that difficult, and took a bit of fun out of it. But the memories spoke more loudly than my words ever could. Life in that little flat, above my grandparents’ flat, helped shape me. It’s true, especially in Christ, that we do mature and we become “new” people in Him. And yet, our Sovereign Lord, takes those past places, those roads we once traveled and all our myriad experiences, to work them together for our good and to help us to relate to others. Without our past, we wouldn’t be exactly who we are in our present. I’m so glad that you had this opportunity to explore. And just think: God will give you all eternity to explore the roads and biways of the new heavens and new earth, where He will lead the way.
Blessings!!
Lynn
Floyd
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 5:54 pm
Excellent point about the past shaping our future, Lynn. We have the gift of free will to be able to use the power from our Father to turn the toughest times into the greatest and most powerful lessons. Funny how it’s never the same. I guess it can’t be since we aren’t… Thanks so much for the thought invoking comment, Lynn. You were missed!!! Praying for you and your friend.
Betty Jo
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 6:40 am
WOW! Your genius in pulling me into your stories as if I’m the one walking down that road and having the memories, amaze me every single time. That’s a gift Floyd! Last Friday my son got to visit his old Christian high school, near me here in the mountains, stand on the cement slab where he spent countless hours dunking baskets, which earned him MVP his senior year. When he was telling me about it all on Sunday, we both had tears in our eyes. Memories can sometimes be sad, but so often, they are really beautiful gifts. “Welcome Home, Son.” is such an incredible destination for your wonderful story, and life.
Floyd
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 5:56 pm
How great is that? What a blessing for Chris and for you. I’m not surprised that he was and is a stud! What a gift. Thanks for sharing that, Betty Jo!
ceil
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 8:49 am
Hi Floyd! You turned a cold morning walk into a beautiful reflection of your past. What a wonderful thing to look up and really see the work that you’ve done to help build a city. So many people work at jobs where they never see tangible results. What a blessing that is!
I teared up at your hearing the Father say “Welcome Home”. He has brought you securely to this place in your life, turn by turn, nail by nail, house by house. Isn’t that amazing?
God has challenged you and blessed you. And you see it…how he is smiling at you now!
Blessings,
Ceil
Floyd
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 5:59 pm
Wow. You made great points, Ceil. You have amazing wisdom, sister. Your words drive the lesson home a little deeper into a soul. That’s a gift, Ceil! Bless you, and thank you, sister.
tcavey
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 9:14 am
I took a jog through memory lane this past weekend when we traveled back to where the majority of our family lives. I thought about how similar yet different things looked. I thought about moving back there, wondering if how it would be. I’m not the same person I was when I left that place years ago.
Seems like yet again, we are on the same wave length.
Floyd
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 6:53 pm
No big surprise that we’re on the same page, TC. What a blessing it is to be able to look and see how much we’ve been changed. Thanks, TC. Glad you enjoyed your time cruising memory lane!
Ngina Otiende
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 3:01 pm
Quite the walk, down the memory lane. Reminds me of how, in order to appreciate the present and future, sometimes we have to take a step back. Great walk it is.
Floyd
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 6:55 pm
That’s quite the wisdom, and twice I’ve heard it today! I must need to learn it a little deeper! You do have amazing wisdom, Ngina. Thanks, sister.
Betty Draper
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 4:42 pm
Today, I went down to the place where I used to go
Today, I saw the same old crowd I knew before
And when they asked me what had happened, I tried to tell them,
Thanks to Calvary, I don’t come here anymore.
Thanks to Calvary I am not the man I used to be
Thanks to Calvary things are different than before.
And as the tears ran down my face I tried to tell them
Thanks to Calvary, I don’t come (live) here anymore.
I am in my home town for a few days visiting my mother and family and as always memories crowd my mind as I drive around the town. Occassionaly I meet people I grew up with and they are a little surprised at what I have turned out to be. For sure they did not expect me to be a missionary and travel the world. I was the girl across the tracks, drunk father, poor kid. I love telling them what God has done and still doing in my life. Good post brother…good one.
Floyd
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 6:58 pm
Oh how wonderful, Betty. That brings joy to my soul and lifts it high. What a blessing you’ve turned out to be! God has used you and still does every day in more ways than you’re gonna know this side of the heavenly curtain. I cherish your heart and testimony… it’s ever expanding. Our Father is good, sister. Real good. Thanks for sharing. What a blessing. And blessings on you and yours, Betty. Thanks for being and sharing you.
Mike
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 7:00 pm
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my old stomping grounds in Chicago. Not sure I want to go back and reminisce even though I had a lot of good times as well. Branson Missouri is definitely much more my speed these days. Thanks for the memory jog. 🙂
Floyd
Wednesday, April 23, 2014 @ 6:36 pm
That sounds like a good speed for anybody these days! Thanks, Mike. I can only imagine the roads you tore up!
June
Tuesday, April 22, 2014 @ 7:14 pm
It’s so important to remember what God has done in our lives. All through the OT you see God’s people erecting memorials. Fifty Sixth is your memorial, Floyd. What a beautiful testimony.
Floyd
Wednesday, April 23, 2014 @ 6:37 pm
You know I didn’t even think about it like that, but that’s good call, June. It really is filled with memorials that testify to our Father’s sovereign hand over our lives. Nice call! Great wisdom, sister. Thanks, June!
Jason Stasyszen
Wednesday, April 23, 2014 @ 8:32 am
Living in the same area, but not the same person… that’s what it’s all about. We journey, we struggle, we hope, we surrender–it’s all by His grace and faithfulness. Great reflection, Floyd. Thank you.
Floyd
Wednesday, April 23, 2014 @ 6:38 pm
“We surrender.” Well said, Jason. There is no peace and joy without that act of humility, the act that closest resembles the action and love of our Father and Savior. That is a great way to put it! Thanks, Jason!
Caleb Suko
Wednesday, April 23, 2014 @ 10:30 am
Walking provides me with some of the best times to think, remember and meditate! I’m glad that you had the chance to take that walk and that you didn’t just remember but you saw the hand of God in your life!
Floyd
Wednesday, April 23, 2014 @ 6:40 pm
Whoa! Everyone is on fire today! Well said, Caleb. I didn’t just remember, I saw the active hand of God in every aspect of my life. The sweet redemption in love is soul lifting. Very well put, Caleb. Thank you, my friend.
Dolly@Soulstops
Wednesday, April 23, 2014 @ 6:27 pm
Floyd,
I appreciate how well you tell a story and how you point back to what God has done and continues to do in your life…yes, it will be beautiful to be welcomed home by our heavenly Father knowing Christ bought us access 🙂
Floyd
Wednesday, April 23, 2014 @ 6:41 pm
It’s hard to imagine, but when I do, it leaves me lifted spiritually in my soul. What you would call “A Soul Stop” moment. Not to steal from you, but to point to your heart and wisdom. Thanks so much, Dolly. Bless you, sister.
Chuck Allen
Wednesday, April 23, 2014 @ 11:23 pm
What a beautiful post, Floyd. I’m sure that day at the apartments was tough, but what an amazing turning point. I’m certainly thankful for you and how God is using you today.
BTW, The imagery of the sunlight coming through in bursts from the fence enhanced the point perfectly. Great writing!
Floyd
Thursday, April 24, 2014 @ 6:06 pm
Thanks so much for the kind words, Chuck. You’re a special man. I’m thankful for you and your heart, brother… as well as your pen!