Nothing beats driving a two-lane road rollercoastering its way across undulating hills. It’s so much fun. In fact, such fun that I backtracked, pulled over to the side and hustled to the dotted yellow line to capture the moment with a photo. So intent was I that I jumped when I turned and noticed the truck briefly idling behind me.

Those kinds of roads remind me so much of life being lived, not just ticked off by hours or days.

It’s interesting, though, because we don’t really know where our road is going, do we? Oh, we think we have it all mapped out, but roads sometimes seem to disappear as they dip down and out of sight. Sometimes we see it rise again, far ahead, a little off kilter from where it dipped down. In truth, sometimes we can’t be sure it’s the same road popping up far ahead at the next rise. Not to mention we have no real sense of where the road meanders between that downward dip and a far-away climb. For sure, it’s a heart-stopping moment if we stop to really think about it. Sometimes vehicles ahead of us just disappear, if the dip is steep enough.

Sometimes I feel that sense of loss, of not knowing for sure which way the road turns or which way I need to go. It’s not unlike living. Sometimes we’re on top looking down at a meandering path that makes sense. Other days we’re down in the valley, seeing the path go up with no assurance how or where or if it goes forward from there.

I’m reminded that we seldom travel through life on flat interstate highways. Instead, our journey is filled with cliffhangers and swerves, curves and dips, drops and rises, with a mixture of high sweeping views and low, tight spaces. It’s both exhilarating and frightening.

My life journey has offered many a deep dip. It often felt like a lonely, interminable stretch of highway I might never leave. But eventually that dip leveled out and the valley began to climb and soon I was back on top, feeling even higher than I was before (although I figure that’s because it just feels so much higher than what I JUST left). I chalk it up to a natural effect of traveling through a life made up of rolling hills.

Performing artist Kate York sings, “no matter where you’re standing, if you’re gonna fall, you’re still on top of the world.” Hmmm. Life’s a lot like that. Even if I’m in a dip, I’m still on top of the world. Those dips offer the thrill of the rollercoaster, an adrenaline rush. And poised at the very top of the road before careening down is surely a GULP moment: never boring, never staid.

I certainly know I’m alive as I anticipate the next dip, the next climb, the next wild ride. Forget flat. I’ll take rolling hills anytime.