The Light at the End of the Tunnel - Part 1

Remove sunglasses. Turn lights on. Stay in lane.

As the tunnel entrance swallowed our car, I could hear our daughters in the back seat inhaling huge gulps of air, then becoming quiet as they held their breath until we exited into the bright sunshine at the other end, 4,380 feet later. Ah-h-h. Their relief and laughter all mixed together always made me smile. I still think of their antics every time I travel on the northeast extension of the PA Turnpike. 

In 1957, a single two-lane tunnel under Blue Mountain opened. In 1991 a parallel tunnel was constructed to allow two lanes of traffic in each direction. I marvel at the engineering of it all.

And yet, I'm not too fond of the tunnel experience. Are you? I feel closed in and find myself gripping the wheel a little tighter, allowing plenty of space between my front end and the tail lights of the car in front of me. And always, my eyes search for the light at the end of the tunnel.

The expression, "light at the end of the tunnel," dates back to the 1800s but became more widespread in the mid-1900s. By now a cliché, it still captures the idea that a difficult situation or task might be coming to an end.* There's hope. We're moving toward a place that will give relief and allow us to breath a little freer.

Some tunnel experiences seem short and others drag on for much longer. At times we think we're close to finishing our journey in the dark only to find that the light seems to keep moving ahead, beyond our ability to exit in the time we expected. We may feel hemmed in by the darkness as we watch others whizzing past us in the other lane. Whether we're facing an illness, a financial crisis, or a season of stress, in each case, we find relief and joy when we see the end in sight. "The desire accomplished is sweet to the soul" (Proverbs 13:19).

However, not all of our tunnel experiences are negative.

What projects have you taken on, knowing they would be challenging and demanding, yet the anticipated reward kept you motivated to stay in your lane and keep going? I felt that way when I began to write Penned Without Ink.    

Most recently, I teamed up with my publisher and a narrator to produce an audiobook of our story. The rule of thumb suggests that narrators or readers set aside ten hours  of time for each hour of actual reading. My book takes 4 hours and 18 minutes. Think of all the time it took for the narrator, Robin Wasser, to read and produce our story. And she captured it beautifully. On my end, I listened and proofread each chapter twice, pointing to every word in the book. As I checked off each section, I began to see the light at the end of the tunnel grow brighter.

On February 16,  the audiobook of Penned Without Ink made its appearance on Amazon and is now available through Audible! Ah-h-h. Project complete and well worth every foot of tunnel time along the way. I hope you'll check it out HERE.

No matter where we find ourselves in our life stories, let's keep our eyes on the light at the end of the tunnel. We don't have to hold our breath. God promises His precious presence all the way to the end.

Next time: Part 2

Tunnel photos from bing.com/images/free to use
*https://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/light+at+the+end+of+the+tunnel