I'm traveling this morning to a small rural church in Marion, Louisiana. I'm attending an end-of-life celebration in support of a friend who has lost her father. The problem is that my iPhone Map app has never heard of the First Baptist Church in Marion, Louisiana. In fact, my iPhone Map app has never heard of Marion, Louisiana.

I'm reminded of something my father-in-law used to say. It was a funny little expression. Well, it wasn't quite so funny as it was cute. Honestly, it wasn't quite so cute as it was terribly annoying. When a person asked him for driving directions, he'd inevitably fix his face in a grim expression and respond, "Well, you can't get there from here."

But I've discovered you can get to Marion, Louisiana in either one of two ways. You can go through town, following the most traveled highways. Or, you can go through Hale. Which, when verbalized, sounds a whole lot worse than it really is.

Driving on unfamiliar roads to a destination I've never been for an end-of-life celebration, I'm reflecting on life and the impact of our eager expectations and the accompanying, inevitable disappointments.

As we age, our level of satisfaction in life reflects whether or not we've met the expectations of our youth. Expectations around who we once thought we'd become and what we once thought we'd accomplish.

The journey and the destination.  

Did it live up to your expectations, or did you indeed discover, "You can't get there from here"?

What were your expectations from youth around health and wellness; relationships; recreation and travel; physical environment; professional success; spiritual wholeness? Has the reality proven less than expected, more than expected, or just different?

How might your disposition reflect the difference between former expectation and present reality? How do you show up to others: grateful encourager or disgruntled critic?

Mightn't it be possible to reframe either your journey or destination for greater satisfaction?

You can get there--even from here!