Finding Peace Along the Oil Road
Finding Peace Along the Oil Road: A Journey of Healing
Life has a way of breaking us down in ways we never imagined. Almost 12 years ago, my world was shattered when I lost my 22-year-old son. In the wake of his passing, I faced grief so profound it felt like an endless void. Every day was a question mark: Would life ever hold hope again? Would I ever find something to look forward to? The pain was heavy, unrelenting, and it drove me to seek solace far away from the city where everything reminded me of what I had lost.
That’s how I found myself in South Dakota, a place I had never imagined calling home. It wasn’t just a move; it was an escape—a chance to heal in the quiet anonymity of rural life. My days were slow and uncertain, filled with moments where I wondered if the sadness would ever lift. And then one day, it happened.
I was driving down an oil road, surrounded by acres of tall grass and sprawling fields of golden corn. The sun was pouring through the car window, warm and golden, wrapping everything in a glow so serene it felt almost surreal. In that moment, something shifted inside me. I felt an immense sense of peace and calm that I hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. My heart, which had been weighed down for so long, finally felt light enough to smile.
It wasn’t just the beauty of the landscape—though it was breathtaking in its simplicity. It was the reminder that life, in all its fragility and heartbreak, still held moments of grace. That moment, with the sun streaming down and the fields stretching endlessly, felt like life whispering to me: You’re still here. You’re still alive.
As I continued on this journey, something even more profound happened. My heart, which had been shattered into countless pieces, was made new again. Not just repaired, but transformed. It was like rediscovering the pure joy and love that an infant or toddler feels for the first time—unfiltered, boundless, and full of wonder. It was a feeling I thought I might never experience again, but there it was, filling me with hope and reminding me that life’s capacity for renewal is limitless.
It was the first time since my son’s passing that I felt a glimmer of hope—hope that there might still be something to look forward to, something worth holding on for. Not long after that moment, life surprised me again in the most unexpected way: I met my husband, the person who would bring even more light and love into my life. Sometimes, I believe the Lord brings us blessings during our heartbreak, gently reminding us that He walks with us even in our darkest moments. That drive on the oil road didn’t erase the pain, but it showed me that there was space for peace and joy alongside it.
Since then, I’ve held on to that moment as a beacon—a reminder that healing doesn’t come all at once, but in small, quiet moments when we least expect it. I believe the light that grows and shines within us is a beacon to others—a place of solace, love, and kindness. It becomes a sanctuary that others are drawn to when they are weak and weary from a hard life. And as I’ve continued to rebuild my life, I’ve discovered something even more beautiful: the opportunity to help others find their own paths to peace, purpose, and joy.
If you’re in a place where life feels heavy and hopeless, I want you to know this: There’s still light. It might not come today or tomorrow, but it’s there, waiting for you. Sometimes it finds you in the smallest, most unexpected ways—like sunlight through a car window on a quiet South Dakota road.
Take heart. Keep going. Your golden field of peace is out there, too.
