More time

Nate just returned home from a snowmobiling trip to Montana.  Although I am not a terrible worrier, there is something to be said about being uneasy when the man you love will not stick to the beaten, well worn path that is before him but will blaze new trails into the unknown.  I would look every morning and evening for the news caption of "Avalanche, snowmobile rs buried alive."  He only had to throw himself off the back of the vehicle one time when he suddenly came to an unseen cliff.  The cliff turned out to be only 15 feet down, and the vehicle landed in a huge pile of drift, but you can't see that from the riders perspective.  When we crawled into bed last night and turned off the lights, I said "Thank you lord for more time."