When our kids were young and we took car trips, inevitably the question would arise, “Are we almost there?” Sometimes this would happen 30 minutes into an 8-hour drive. “Are we almost there?”
I learned after several trips to reply, “We’re about half-way there.” Regardless of where we were on the trip, my response would always be, “We’re about half-way.” Of course as the kids got older (and wiser) they understood that my ‘half-way’ might have meant that we still had lots of travel or that perhaps (hopefully) we were near our arrival. Now that my children are adults we laugh about my ‘half-way’ response to the often-asked “Are we almost there?”
Half-way. It’s hopeful because you realize that a lot of territory has been covered and it’s prudential because you know there’s still a significant way to go. Half-way. It’s cautiously optimistic. And it always reassured our little travelers (and sometimes their beleagured parents, too) that we were well on our way (even when we weren’t).
Half-way can be a good place to be. In many ways I feel that I am half-way in my life. Not young. Not old (not really old anyway). And lately I realize that I’m half-way in my spiritual life, too. I’m not yet where I want to be. I’m not yet where I need to be. And of course I’ve taken lots of detours. But I’m hopeful because I’ve covered a lot of ground on my journey even though I still have a long way to go. So I’m cautiously optimistic.
I pray. I hope. I love. I try. And then I pray some more. And often the mile-markers on my trip, in the form of friends and family along my way, reassure me that I’m on the right path. The glimpses of heaven along my way can be found in the love of those who share this trip with me. “Am I almost there?” I don’t think so.
But right now I’m happy to be half-way (wherever that may be). Love and prayers will hopefully keep me on the right path for the rest of my journey.