In early 2003, a few friends and I began having regular playdates. We had infants who were born with Down syndrome, and gathering was great fun, overwhelmingly supportive and crucially encouraging. We were starting out on a journey unfamiliar to us, as mothers with children who have Down syndrome, and traveling together as we started out was truly life-changing. It moved us from despair and loneliness, to joy and community. As new families joined us, and it seemed necessary to give our little playgroup a name, I suggested Morning Travelers, to signify we were at the beginning – the morning of this journey – as mothers with children who have Down syndrome – and we were traveling this stretch of our road together. The name stuck.
A couple of years ago, I engaged a social media advisor, to talk through whether I needed to move away from this idea of being a Morning Traveler. I was now fifteen years into that journey. Her view was that Morning Traveler – and the meaning behind it – seemed to be applicable to many undertakings. Often in life we will be setting out on a new journey, and needing to find our way. Sometimes we will have the benefit of community, as I did in early 2003, and sometimes we will go it alone. Having reflected on her comments for a while, I have decided to double-down and claim I’m a Morning Traveler for life. There have been, and will be, many times when I will benefit from reminding myself that I am facing the dawn of something new and unknown, that I am not paralyzed, but always moving, navigating a new terrain, with a mix of trepidation, confidence, wonder and faith.
I’m at this place in the road now again, as I send my first son off to college.
This is tiring terrain, much of it steep. But the road is long, there will be rest along the way and as a Christian, I believe God’s Word will shed light as I move forward in the darkness. Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path, says Psalm 119. The wee hours of the morning are dark. The journey does not begin in sunlight, but the sun always rises.
On we go. I invite you to walk alongside.
Morning Traveler 