The rear view mirror held on to Fisher’s Peak, my geographical and spiritual anchor. Beside me, the rising sun announced the gift of life. The road before me, well, let’s just say I had no clue. The sound of my tires against the shoulder grating reminded me of the dangers of holding on to an anchor or gift. “Eyes on the road,” I whispered.

I know my strengths. I know I have pushed myself beyond capabilities and abilities I never thought possible. I can go on autopilot and trust that anchor. I know the sun will rise no matter the path. The thumping sound of tires on the shoulder grating begged the whisper, “Yes little one, you can do and know all that. But can you trust the Sweet Hands of Life even more, and simply allow your eyes to rest upon the road?”