The Country Roads That Took Me Home

Every once in awhile, life offers a small dirt road to drive down apart from the four-lane highway you’re used to. The road doesn’t come often, but if you look closely, it’s always there when it matters, and if you’re careful, you’ll learn lessons that are fundamental to life. That’s what happened to me this weekend when I took the opportunity to go with some of my friends to Emmett, Idaho. A small city outside of Boise, Emmett is so unknown and obscure to the outside world that it might as well be protected by lock and key.

Despite the title of my blog, Emmett is not my home in the traditional sense of the word. It is not the place where I grew up, where my family lives, or even a place where I have visited before. In fact, before this weekend, Emmett was a place that existed to me only in the stories of my dear friends. Nevertheless, in Emmett I learned, or relearned, important lessons that I had once been taught in my real home. These are a few things that I learned.

Sometimes when we’re going through life, the road curves, our wheels skid off the track, and tragedy results. When the dust settles and the wounds begin to heal, we can get back on track and move on with our life. Lately, it was difficult to imagine being on the wrong side of the bell curve, the bottom of my target grade, or even a little off-track in my dating life. Sometimes I forget how good my life really is.



Doing something new is not nearly as scary after you do it. I've been learning that lesson for the past four years of my life and I still haven't mastered it. The height of the bridge is not as intimidating looking up as it is looking down. That idea can help us do things that are difficult, things that we would do on our own if we could find a way to be our very best self. President Heber J. Grant often taught, “That which we persist in doing becomes easier for us to do; not that the nature of the things itself is changed, but that our power to do is increased.” These words never become quite clear until after they have been followed.

When wishing on a star, what comes first, the wish or the star? For me it was the star. As I laid on my back listening to Elvis Presley scare away the deer from eating Grandma Hallam’s corn, I counted the shooting stars as they passed by. I counted only one in the first half-hour, and it took me nearly that long afterwards to make a wish. Then I began to think of the wishes I had for my life. The stars began to appear frequently, four or five every few minutes. I soon ran out of wishes and I thought about how sad it is to run out of wishes when the night will never run out of stars.

Just like any great weekend, it came to a close too soon. The same road that took me to Emmett finally took me back to the four-lane highway I’m used to. But these little lessons will continue to stir my mind as long as I need them. Then, I will carefully look for another bending, dirt road to take me where I need to go.