The Station

Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see
ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are
traveling by train. out the windows we drink in the passing
scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a
crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke
pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat ,
of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of
city skylines and village halls. 

	But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. Bands will
be playing and flags waving. Once we get there our dreams will
come true, and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a
jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the
minutes for loitering -- waiting, waiting, waiting for the
station.

	"When we reach the station, that will be it!" we cry.
	"When I'm 18."
	"When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz!"
	"When I put the last kid through college."
	"When I have paid off the mortgage!"
	"When I get a promotion."
	"When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever
	after!"

	Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one
place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the
trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.

	"Relish the moment" is a good motto, especially when coupled
with Psalm 118:24; "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we
will rejoice and be glad in it." It isn't the burdens of today
that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the
fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of
today.

	So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead,
climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more
often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry
less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come
soon enough.   
                         -- By Robert J. Hastings

Revised 11/24/98