Is it possible that every road I travel on is being repaired?

This is no hypothetical question. I really want to know.

It certainly seems that way.

Maybe part of the problem is that my very own street has been torn up for at least two months. Every time I peek out the window, I see piles of gravel and lots of large machinery. My water has been turned off (once without warning), my yard painted various colors, my car exiled from its driveway. The noise has been, at times, simply too much.

There is no forgetting that we are under construction.

And when I finally escape this neighborhood, I find myself negotiating “rough grooved surface”, “shoulder closed”, “people working”, and “bump” everywhere I turn.

Sigh. If only I could see that progress was being made.

I suspect that this is just how life is. Something is always under construction. Certainly, each of us is. We are always evolving, growing, and learning new things about ourselves. It’s a good thing. It is, truly, one of the awesome miracles and gifts of life.

Unfortunately, it often means that the road we travel is bumpy. As we change, so do our relationships, and our lives. Constant maintenance is required. We don’t always like what we see as we turn the corner, in ourselves or in those around us. Sometimes we have to slam on the brakes, or find alternate routes, or simply be content to move at a snail’s pace.

It can be quite frustrating.

And sometimes it seems like no progress is being made.

This summer, in my travels, I encountered a patch of interstate-surprise!-under construction. I braced myself. But at the side of the road was a sign that said: “8 miles to go! Hang in there!” There was a frowning face on the sign. A mile later another sign stood by. “7 miles to go! Rome wasn’t built in a day!”. The face looked slightly happier. Every mile of that road had a sign, helping me along. There was a even a joke. “Knock knock” (Who’s there?) “Orange” (Orange who?) “Orange you glad you’re almost through?” By the end of the 8 miles, the face was grinning broadly and shouted: “You made it! Have a great day!”

Now, maybe it’s silly, but those signs made all the difference in the world. And they reminded me of this: It’s a whole lot easier to travel those rough patches when we have encouragement, and company, and a sense of humor. May we remember this on our journey.

And may we know that somehow, some way, we will reach where we are going. There will be smooth sailing again. And it will be worth it.

I like to walk up and down the street nearby that they tore up last year. I admire the curbs and the sewers and the flawless blacktop road. And I know that someday my own street will look like that. Someday.

But for now, I hold that vision with me as my hope.

So may it be for all of us.