Sometimes I feel like a little kid sitting in the back seat of my father’s car saying, “Are we there yet?” After watching the evening’s news and trying to understand each day’s horrors I want to pray to my heavenly Father, “Are we there yet?” The senselessness of groups killing each other just never seems to stop. There is some primitive stupidity in our human minds that leads us to think life will be better if only we can kill that other group of people. Is it a fear that we better kill them before they kill us? Could it be the idea that we could be richer if we stole their natural resources? Could it be kings and presidents start wars because they want to be remembered? I know the presidents I best remember are wartime presidents. Who remembers Chester What’s His Name Arthur or Franklin Pierce? But we do remember Washington, Lincoln and Roosevelt.
To keep me from constantly asking, “Are we there yet?” my father would stop at a gas station and get a map (they were free then) and show me where we were and where we were going. That helped. Maybe that is why we seem so hungry for signs and omens in the news. If we had some clear markings along God’s timeline perhaps we would not have to keep praying, “Are we there yet?”
What I do know is I am closer than most. I am most likely within ten or fifteen years while most people in the world are under thirty and have a much longer journey ahead. I wonder why we ask, “Are we there yet?” and yet rue the truth that we are getting old. We should be welcoming age. It means we are almost there.
Written by Roger Bothwell on April 16, 2015
Spring of Life, PO Box 124, St. Helena, CA 94574