Adventures in a cornfield?

And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time. 
– T.S. Eliott

This is an oldie favorite quote of mine because it cuts so close to my heart and experience.  There were going to be so many dreams, ideas, adventures, and then we ended up here.  So I moaned and groaned about the loss of adventure (still do some days!), and then I read this:

The Baab sisters of the Ebenezer orphanage were ready and willing to [raise the baby well], but time has a way of leading a person along a crooked path.  Sometimes the path is hard to hold to and people fall off along the way. They curse the road for its steep grades and muddy ruts and settle themselves in hinterlands of thorn and sorrow, never knowing or dreaming that the road meant all along to lead them home.  Some call that road a tragedy and lose themselves along it.  Others, those that see it home, call it an adventure.” – A.S. Peterson, The Fiddler’s Gun

Perhaps these cornfields are really an adventure after all?

Are there adventures you intended to have and instead, find yourself elsewhere?  How do you see the road you’re on?


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