Tag Archives: Choice


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,


And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.


I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost

“Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.”

John 1:3 (NIV)




Filed under Latent Poetic Tendencies, photography

My Choice

This moment is too rare to disturb.  Basking in warm sunshine on the balcony, the air around me now is 37°F (37°C), five degrees warmer, above freezing as it was when I first stepped outside.  I could go downstairs now, turn off the trickling water and close the cabinet doors.  I choose to stay.

Warm in a shirpa throw, breathing in the new day, I suddenly feel as though time stopped.  I do not stop; with surges of emotion my heart keeps beating, my mind races – and then slows.  With the beginning of a New Year so close, the past and the present seeming to swirl together around me is revealing, not alarming.

From some recess I think of the apostle Paul.  Fettered in prison, fully aware that his life was about to end, he wrote, “…Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.*”

Press on.

Notwithstanding New Year’s reflections, except for ascertaining exactly where we are, and determining where to go next, stop looking back, looking forward is best.  Sure, events of the last few years affected my family and me profoundly.  We took some hard hits.  And we rolled to our feet.  We press on.

Today my stories remain obscure.  Though it is doing better than I expected, my blog is still somewhat nondescript.  Yet, from the distance, friends and loved ones steadily cheer me onward, to continue writing, posting and keep going forward.

I was born to write, and I played at it for decades.  Today I actually sense my purpose deeply.  My days end in exhaustion, and yet I wake refreshed, renewed, and eager to continue.  Focused on my goal, bless Jesus, I choose to fly.


real Pegasus


Happy New Year, all y’alls!

Carry On,

by Kansas

*Philippians 3:13,14, Holy Bible. New Living Translation copyright© 1996, 2004, 2007, 2013 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.


Filed under Notes from the Apex



Alone for the first time I could remember, I stopped and stood to study the wood before me. I bowed my head, closed my eyes and drew a deep, deliberate breath, determined to clear my mind.

I lifted my head as I opened my eyes. Across the small clearing a distinct path was directly ahead of me. Except for one young tree that I could easily step around, my eyes followed a straight, fair distance. Farther along, and higher up, from behind two darker masses, peeked a hint of misty, gray-blue sky; like foggy sunlight glowing from behind lace curtains into an unlit room.

I imagined the walk and where it led. I wanted more.

Turning my head slowly back and forth, I could make out gaps between trees, suggesting other paths. Unmoved, I scanned the wood’s edge again more slowly. Every opening I had noticed before seemed to have narrowed. But as I turned my face to my right, my vision voluntarily shot ahead a few yards. Without the slightest movement in the tree line my eyes stopped where I perceived a lane. The trees there seemed a slightly lighter shade of color and the ground cover sparser amongst blotches of grassy spots.

Uncertain, I looked past that point following the clearing until my neck stretched fully, and then turned it back again, expecting what had been another illusion would be gone. Instead the trailhead was more distinct and seemed even lighter. I glanced back at the obvious path straight ahead of me. I thought to look all around one more time, but instead my foot lifted, I stepped to the right and the rest of me followed the right path into the wood.

Years later, as I reflect upon that turn, I wonder if my life would have been different had I taken the obvious path in front of me. Is predictable better? Was the right path wrong? Would loss and suffering have stayed with me on another trail? Was it all the difference or was it destiny?


Filed under Notes from the Apex