"She is 106 years old!" the nursing home resident said of her friend as they sat side-by-side in wheel chairs. Wow! We had heard about her in the church service just before, as her name was mentioned in a prayer request. Now here she was in the hallway. "She worked for the telephone company, and so did I," our informant shared proudly, "and she worked at the post office, and I did, too!"
When I heard that the church we had recently began attending had a nursing home service, I told my husband, and he quickly inquired about helping with it. This was the first time we had come, and Howard had brought his guitar. We were told to be there at 8:30, but it seemed no one had gathered yet. I asked a wheel-chair patient in the hall if she would like me to push her to the service. She seemed a little disinterested, but she agreed.
I placed her alongside some other residents who had trickled in, but soon she had wheeled herself to a place beside where I was sitting behind a table. "I like it better over here," she stated. Maneuvering into place, she encountered unfriendly resistance by another attendee. I looked to see another oldster firmly pushing against this fellow-resident's wheel chair. "You don't run this place!" the first lady said through clenched teeth, as the other patient glared at her! Apparently everything is not all sweetness and light in nursing homes!
The service seemed well organized, with two men coming in bearing communion trays, one standing at the podium and speaking a few words from scripture, then the other praying before they began passing out the communion elements. They served us as well, and we held our cups and bread, waiting on all to be served. But then I noticed some drinking it immediately and thought it was just their mistake. Turns out that's the way it was done here, and we were left holding our cups as the men left the room! We immediately took our communion!
We had a nice visit with the pianist who had come in to accompany the singing and left immediately afterward. I helped with assisting the patients find the right page in the songbook, and was impressed by their participation in the singing. One male voice dominated as it boomed out. "He used to be the shop teacher in high school," the director confided to me.
After a short devotional, everyone joined together in saying the Lord's prayer and their memory verse, John 3:16. Just before she dismissed, the leader invited Howard to play the guitar and sing, which he thoroughly enjoyed, walking around making eye contact with patients as he strummed and sang a couple of choruses.
Several began wheeling themselves out, and I looked for someone to help. I realized I didn't know their room numbers, and some were obviously not able to tell me. One lady said she knew where her room was, however. I pushed her down the hall and she didn't see her room, so we entered the next hall. Then a tall man met us, saying hello to her. "Her room is around the corner, first room on the right." he said, "I will take her home."
None of us know when our time will come, some may live to be 106 and others younger could go out in a car accident or some other untimely way. When I die, how wonderful it will be to hear God or an angel say, like the man in the hall, "I will take her home!"
Monday, September 8, 2014
Friday, September 5, 2014
All God's Children
I found my shoes! What a surprise! I did not leave them at a motel during our trip! Unpacking, I unzipped a side pocket of one of the suitcases at home, and there they were! I had gone shopping for a replacement pair while in Georgia, but the cute, strappy ones I bought didn't feel so great later and would have to be returned.
"Let's stop at the store and return them before we leave town," I suggested as we were about to depart to visit our Tennessee daughter. It was about 9:30 a.m. when we got to the store, but the sign said they didn't open until 10:00. We decided to wait and return them at the mall in Johnson City. No problem, but I didn't get around to buying any more shoes. And now I don't have to!
One day during our vacation Howard had to get a prescription filled at the Walmart pharmacy. I was waiting for him at a table at the in-store McDonald's, people-watching as they checked out their groceries in front of me. Suddenly a voice said, "I like your shirt." I looked up to see a friendly, Tennessee woman talking to me, and I said, "Thank you!"
"I like the colors," she went on, of my multi-colored top. I told her I had bought it at a store in Kansas. "I like your necklace, too," she continued, "It matches your shirt." Then, "Did you buy that there, too?" I didn't remember where I had bought it, but I thanked her. Soon she took her leave and I could see her going back toward the meat department where she obviously worked.
We had to go to the grocery store after we had gotten home, and as we pushed our basket toward the check-out, a stranger came up to Howard and me and abruptly said, "You are an attractive couple!" I was a bit taken aback, but he had thrown his arm around Howard's shoulder and said, "God told me to move to Blackwell from California."
Soon my loquacious husband was engaged in conversation with him, finding common ground with him about everything from scriptural insights to their residence location. "I bought so-and-so's house," the man volunteered, and Howard knew exactly where that was. The former owner's wife had been the secretary of our junior high school!
I guess we seem very approachable, especially Howard. Recently we had attended a drive-in theater for the viewing of the movie, God's Not Dead! Before it started, Howard went to get me some water. While he was gone, I thought the man in the next car was rather friendly, and when Howard came back, they chatted through the open car windows.
That Sunday at church, a man came up and said, "You were parked next to us at the drive-in!" We hadn't even recognized them, since we were newcomers to the church. Then his wife walked up and surprised us by saying, "I saw this distinguished-looking man walking toward the car with water, and I thought I recognized you!"
Well, my husband does look a little distinguished, I guess, with his reading glasses riding low and his serious demeanor. But I think people really see God in him, and kindred spirits are drawn to him. He has been a minister for nearly 30 years, having preached just last Sunday at our daughter and son-in-law's church in Tennessee.
Isaiah 52:7 reads, "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!" Those were mountains where Howard was preaching, and unlike me, he didn't misplace his shoes!
"Let's stop at the store and return them before we leave town," I suggested as we were about to depart to visit our Tennessee daughter. It was about 9:30 a.m. when we got to the store, but the sign said they didn't open until 10:00. We decided to wait and return them at the mall in Johnson City. No problem, but I didn't get around to buying any more shoes. And now I don't have to!
One day during our vacation Howard had to get a prescription filled at the Walmart pharmacy. I was waiting for him at a table at the in-store McDonald's, people-watching as they checked out their groceries in front of me. Suddenly a voice said, "I like your shirt." I looked up to see a friendly, Tennessee woman talking to me, and I said, "Thank you!"
"I like the colors," she went on, of my multi-colored top. I told her I had bought it at a store in Kansas. "I like your necklace, too," she continued, "It matches your shirt." Then, "Did you buy that there, too?" I didn't remember where I had bought it, but I thanked her. Soon she took her leave and I could see her going back toward the meat department where she obviously worked.
We had to go to the grocery store after we had gotten home, and as we pushed our basket toward the check-out, a stranger came up to Howard and me and abruptly said, "You are an attractive couple!" I was a bit taken aback, but he had thrown his arm around Howard's shoulder and said, "God told me to move to Blackwell from California."
Soon my loquacious husband was engaged in conversation with him, finding common ground with him about everything from scriptural insights to their residence location. "I bought so-and-so's house," the man volunteered, and Howard knew exactly where that was. The former owner's wife had been the secretary of our junior high school!
I guess we seem very approachable, especially Howard. Recently we had attended a drive-in theater for the viewing of the movie, God's Not Dead! Before it started, Howard went to get me some water. While he was gone, I thought the man in the next car was rather friendly, and when Howard came back, they chatted through the open car windows.
That Sunday at church, a man came up and said, "You were parked next to us at the drive-in!" We hadn't even recognized them, since we were newcomers to the church. Then his wife walked up and surprised us by saying, "I saw this distinguished-looking man walking toward the car with water, and I thought I recognized you!"
Well, my husband does look a little distinguished, I guess, with his reading glasses riding low and his serious demeanor. But I think people really see God in him, and kindred spirits are drawn to him. He has been a minister for nearly 30 years, having preached just last Sunday at our daughter and son-in-law's church in Tennessee.
Isaiah 52:7 reads, "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!" Those were mountains where Howard was preaching, and unlike me, he didn't misplace his shoes!
Thursday, September 4, 2014
Home Again
"I want to go through Siloam Springs," my husband announced as we were about to come upon our exit for the highway that would take us to Tulsa. Tulsa. Our nemesis! Every time we were routed through there, we got lost, due to detours around road construction!
"Why do you want to go that way?" I protested, figuring it would take longer, and I was already worn out after two days on the road returning from our trip. He said he hadn't been to the small town in some sixty years, and he wanted to go there. I knew that's where his brother, a young, traveling evangelist, met the girl who would be his wife, and there were family ties there. But he also reminded me that his great-grandfather used to pastor a church nearby, and that his family had taken him there as a small child.
"There was a spring near there where my mother always insisted on stopping for some of the good water," he explained. Actually, I went there and saw the spring and church on a trip with Howard and his family when we were teenage sweethearts.
The route he had decided on would take us to Siloam Springs via Fayetteville. Suddenly I felt like I was back in Tennessee! The curvy, scenic, mountain roads soon gave way to breathtaking beauty! I hadn't seen heights like this since we crossed Sam's Gap and Fancy Gap, deep, blue, mist-shrouded chasms in North Carolina a few years ago! I ooh-ed and ah-ed in appreciation and wonder.
"Jeannean thought this was the prettiest place on earth," Howard said of his late sister-in-law, young then and a school teacher in the area. Well, it was very beautiful! But the hairpin curves were a little unnerving.
He didn't recognize a thing in Siloam Springs, the main thoroughfare of the sleepy little town having been transformed into a strip of restaurants, agencies, banks and other miscellaneous businesses. "What is that thing in the distance?" I asked. It looked like a monument of colossal proportions, but drawing nearer, we saw it was a casino, complete with a waterfall cascading down its rocky heights.
We were hesitant to follow the signs leading to Tulsa, so Howard stopped for directions, even though we had our GPS. We wanted to avoid the detours through the city at all costs. "He said this was the right way," my husband reported, getting back in the car. Sure enough, we navigated through the metropolis and soon found ourselves clear of the city and on the final leg of our journey home!
What if we hadn't taken the route Howard had spontaneously decided to take? We would not have been on a clear path through Tulsa! Thank you, Lord, for being with us on this 2,000 mile trip! We had been safe all the way! Not only that, but our mechanically-inclined grandson had taken it upon himself to work until midnight on the eve of our departure replacing our brakes! Something very necessary on the mountain roads! Every time we make it home safe and sound from a long, arduous trip, we consider it something of a miracle! And I believe it is!
"Why do you want to go that way?" I protested, figuring it would take longer, and I was already worn out after two days on the road returning from our trip. He said he hadn't been to the small town in some sixty years, and he wanted to go there. I knew that's where his brother, a young, traveling evangelist, met the girl who would be his wife, and there were family ties there. But he also reminded me that his great-grandfather used to pastor a church nearby, and that his family had taken him there as a small child.
"There was a spring near there where my mother always insisted on stopping for some of the good water," he explained. Actually, I went there and saw the spring and church on a trip with Howard and his family when we were teenage sweethearts.
The route he had decided on would take us to Siloam Springs via Fayetteville. Suddenly I felt like I was back in Tennessee! The curvy, scenic, mountain roads soon gave way to breathtaking beauty! I hadn't seen heights like this since we crossed Sam's Gap and Fancy Gap, deep, blue, mist-shrouded chasms in North Carolina a few years ago! I ooh-ed and ah-ed in appreciation and wonder.
"Jeannean thought this was the prettiest place on earth," Howard said of his late sister-in-law, young then and a school teacher in the area. Well, it was very beautiful! But the hairpin curves were a little unnerving.
He didn't recognize a thing in Siloam Springs, the main thoroughfare of the sleepy little town having been transformed into a strip of restaurants, agencies, banks and other miscellaneous businesses. "What is that thing in the distance?" I asked. It looked like a monument of colossal proportions, but drawing nearer, we saw it was a casino, complete with a waterfall cascading down its rocky heights.
We were hesitant to follow the signs leading to Tulsa, so Howard stopped for directions, even though we had our GPS. We wanted to avoid the detours through the city at all costs. "He said this was the right way," my husband reported, getting back in the car. Sure enough, we navigated through the metropolis and soon found ourselves clear of the city and on the final leg of our journey home!
What if we hadn't taken the route Howard had spontaneously decided to take? We would not have been on a clear path through Tulsa! Thank you, Lord, for being with us on this 2,000 mile trip! We had been safe all the way! Not only that, but our mechanically-inclined grandson had taken it upon himself to work until midnight on the eve of our departure replacing our brakes! Something very necessary on the mountain roads! Every time we make it home safe and sound from a long, arduous trip, we consider it something of a miracle! And I believe it is!
Balancing Act
OMG! Someone fraudulently got our card number! The bank showed an expenditure in Florida, where we had not been on this trip! A wasted vacation morning was spent on calls, faxing, and fixing before we could enjoy strolling the quaint streets of downtown Jonesborough, Tennessee's oldest city.
We still had a bad taste in our mouth from a couple of shoddy incidents we experienced before on this trip. I had selected a bottle of water for 99 cents at a convenience store and was charged $1.29. We were promised a free dessert at a restaurant, then charged for it. My husband called it to their attention, and it was grudgingly removed from our tab, but the deduction was never shown on our statement.
Howard had gone in to buy a candy bar at a service station and noticed it was on sale for $1.89. They charged $2.19 at the register and were disgruntled at having to price-check. While most of these infractions were minor, it seemed to show a pattern of deception becoming all too common in retailing.
Thankfully, there are many pleasant memories of our trip that outweigh the disappointments. On entering a dollar store in Tennessee, our ears were met with a courteous, engaging voice on the intercom announcing store specials. Something about the enthusiasm and timbre of the voice made me say, "That sounds like a preacher!"
As we were checking out, Howard complimented the clerk on the store's announcement. The man's voice when he said, "I'm just trying to live for Jesus," prompted my husband to ask, "Was that you?" to which he answered, "Yes, and I wish He was coming back today!"
The woman behind us in line said, "Me, too!" and I said, "Me, too!" also.
Turns out the man behind the register was the store manager. "We go to a Bible study back in Oklahoma taught by the manager of one of these stores!" Howard shared.
When a cashier at a quick stop a few days before said, "Have a blessed day!" as we headed out the door, Howard turned around and said, "I'm glad I came in here!" He gave her and the girl beside her one of the scripture cards that he carries. The piercings at the edge of their smiles didn't detract from their look of sincerity as they promised to keep the cards.
On our way home, we were trying to decide whether or not to have the meatloaf special offered at Cracker Barrel. "Could I have a bite as a sample to see if I like it?" I ventured to the friendly waitress. She went to check, and though it wasn't permitted, we both ordered it. I was surprised (though I don't know why), when I heard Howard say when the server brought our lunch, "Would you ask the blessing over our food?"
"I sure will," she replied, then bowed her head and said, "Lord, I ask you to bless the food of these young people and give them safety on their travels and meet every need they have. In the precious name of our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen." We thanked her and heard her say as she walked off, "I've never had that happen before!" Then, in an undertone, the mumbled words, "In season and out of season," as she went away shaking her head.
We still had a bad taste in our mouth from a couple of shoddy incidents we experienced before on this trip. I had selected a bottle of water for 99 cents at a convenience store and was charged $1.29. We were promised a free dessert at a restaurant, then charged for it. My husband called it to their attention, and it was grudgingly removed from our tab, but the deduction was never shown on our statement.
Howard had gone in to buy a candy bar at a service station and noticed it was on sale for $1.89. They charged $2.19 at the register and were disgruntled at having to price-check. While most of these infractions were minor, it seemed to show a pattern of deception becoming all too common in retailing.
Thankfully, there are many pleasant memories of our trip that outweigh the disappointments. On entering a dollar store in Tennessee, our ears were met with a courteous, engaging voice on the intercom announcing store specials. Something about the enthusiasm and timbre of the voice made me say, "That sounds like a preacher!"
As we were checking out, Howard complimented the clerk on the store's announcement. The man's voice when he said, "I'm just trying to live for Jesus," prompted my husband to ask, "Was that you?" to which he answered, "Yes, and I wish He was coming back today!"
The woman behind us in line said, "Me, too!" and I said, "Me, too!" also.
Turns out the man behind the register was the store manager. "We go to a Bible study back in Oklahoma taught by the manager of one of these stores!" Howard shared.
When a cashier at a quick stop a few days before said, "Have a blessed day!" as we headed out the door, Howard turned around and said, "I'm glad I came in here!" He gave her and the girl beside her one of the scripture cards that he carries. The piercings at the edge of their smiles didn't detract from their look of sincerity as they promised to keep the cards.
On our way home, we were trying to decide whether or not to have the meatloaf special offered at Cracker Barrel. "Could I have a bite as a sample to see if I like it?" I ventured to the friendly waitress. She went to check, and though it wasn't permitted, we both ordered it. I was surprised (though I don't know why), when I heard Howard say when the server brought our lunch, "Would you ask the blessing over our food?"
"I sure will," she replied, then bowed her head and said, "Lord, I ask you to bless the food of these young people and give them safety on their travels and meet every need they have. In the precious name of our Lord Jesus Christ, Amen." We thanked her and heard her say as she walked off, "I've never had that happen before!" Then, in an undertone, the mumbled words, "In season and out of season," as she went away shaking her head.
Monday, August 25, 2014
Drummer Boy
It was Anniversary Sunday at the church of our daughter's family where we are visiting. The pastor was emphasizing the mission of the church, which is helping people live a Christ-centered life through loving God, making friends, serving others and sharing the Story. He showed video clips of members in ministry, such as handing out lunch bags to needy kids, a children's project of raising money for a water well in Cuba, and other outreaches.
In the last video clip, a woman told of coming to the church several years earlier when she had just had a new baby. He was born premature with several problems and later was diagnosed with autism. The church had encouraged and supported her during the difficult times, and one day when the boy was older she approached the drummer in the orchestra and asked if he would teach her son to play drums. "His one-word answer was 'Absolutely!'" she said. The interview also included words from this professional musician and how he had worked with the boy.
Then the camera was turned on a handsome young man, now 18, in live action as he played the drums during a praise song. I was astounded! Such energized, flying drumsticks, almost a blur in their speed, I had never seen! With an enthusiasm that could have only been from the Lord's anointing, he played wildly, yet with precise accuracy in perfect synchronization with the music track of the song. Tears began to well in my eyes as the song lifted us in a crescendo praise undergirded by the brilliant, lofty, rapid-fire tempo of the drums.
One of the clips the pastor showed was of an individual who had found Christ through one of the church's home groups. She emphasized the kindness and love shown her that influenced her to take Jesus as her Savior. He told of a well-known pastor who had recommended a home group for a woman who seemingly was disappointed in people. She found them judgmental, critical and unsympathetic to her problems and status in life. After attending the home fellowship group for awhile, she wrote to her pastor, telling how the group had welcomed her and didn't look down on her.
Her pastor was so pleased, he made a phone call of encouragement to her. "Oh, yes," she said, "I forgot to tell you, I asked Jesus into my heart two days ago," to which he asked in pleased surprise, "Tell me, was it the doctrine of the church, or the good teaching you received there, or what made you decide to become a Christian?"
"No," she said, it was just a bunch of folks showing Jesus to me."
That's what the man was doing who taught the autistic boy to play the drums. Now the young man plays in the worship band every Sunday. There was no doubt he was playing his best for Jesus that morning, in his own way showing Jesus to us!
In the last video clip, a woman told of coming to the church several years earlier when she had just had a new baby. He was born premature with several problems and later was diagnosed with autism. The church had encouraged and supported her during the difficult times, and one day when the boy was older she approached the drummer in the orchestra and asked if he would teach her son to play drums. "His one-word answer was 'Absolutely!'" she said. The interview also included words from this professional musician and how he had worked with the boy.
Then the camera was turned on a handsome young man, now 18, in live action as he played the drums during a praise song. I was astounded! Such energized, flying drumsticks, almost a blur in their speed, I had never seen! With an enthusiasm that could have only been from the Lord's anointing, he played wildly, yet with precise accuracy in perfect synchronization with the music track of the song. Tears began to well in my eyes as the song lifted us in a crescendo praise undergirded by the brilliant, lofty, rapid-fire tempo of the drums.
One of the clips the pastor showed was of an individual who had found Christ through one of the church's home groups. She emphasized the kindness and love shown her that influenced her to take Jesus as her Savior. He told of a well-known pastor who had recommended a home group for a woman who seemingly was disappointed in people. She found them judgmental, critical and unsympathetic to her problems and status in life. After attending the home fellowship group for awhile, she wrote to her pastor, telling how the group had welcomed her and didn't look down on her.
Her pastor was so pleased, he made a phone call of encouragement to her. "Oh, yes," she said, "I forgot to tell you, I asked Jesus into my heart two days ago," to which he asked in pleased surprise, "Tell me, was it the doctrine of the church, or the good teaching you received there, or what made you decide to become a Christian?"
"No," she said, it was just a bunch of folks showing Jesus to me."
That's what the man was doing who taught the autistic boy to play the drums. Now the young man plays in the worship band every Sunday. There was no doubt he was playing his best for Jesus that morning, in his own way showing Jesus to us!
Friday, August 22, 2014
Generations
"I remember how I used to enjoy taking your mother clothes shopping when she was your age," I said to my 17-year-old granddaughter, Corrin. "Everything looked perfect on her." We were browsing in a store and Corrin found several things she liked and put them in the cart. Earlier, we had decided to get out of the house and asked if she wanted to go. She is recuperating from some surgical procedures and, like most young people, can't be held back long.
"Yes," she said, "but I will drive, and you and Pa Pa can go with me!" Our first stop was to pick up her final paycheck from a summer life-guard job. My, how time flies. It seems only yesterday we were carting her 4-year-old self and big brother and little sister around in the back seat of our car. We baby-sat them while their mother worked, and I can still hear her piping up from the backseat, "Pa Pa, if you expect me to keep riding with you, you're going to have to get a new car!"
Now her brother is away at college. Although Corrin seemed to be splurging on herself, she stopped at a men's clothing store on the way home and came out with a gift-wrapped package for his 20th birthday next week.
We had lunched at her favorite steak and shake place where I was looking forward to the tempting ice cream treat in tall, fluted, old-fashioned soda-shop glasses. "Why are our shakes in styrofoam cups?" I asked the waitress when she brought them. She said they had been so busy they had run out of clean glasses! They were good, but not quite the same!
Her younger sister Rachel is now the taller sister, with long, straight, shiny blonde hair, contrasting with Corrin's long, straight, shiny dark hair. Rachel comes in each day worn out from after-school cross-country running. Yesterday their route took them up a mountain, and Rachel reported, "My friend almost stepped on a snake! It reared up and snapped at her!"
Nothing is quite the same, with these middle grandchildren of mine growing up! They date, drive, get jobs and college brochures, and I am thankful for the few moments they squeeze out for us, seemingly listening intently to Pa Pa's stories and my reminiscing until their attention darts elsewhere in their busy lives.
Our shopping trip not only reminded me of clothes buying with their mom at that age, it also reminded me of myself as a teen, standing in front of a store dressing room mirror in awe that everything I tried on was perfect. The years have gone by, and though not everything has been perfect, sometimes I think it is pretty close to it!
"Yes," she said, "but I will drive, and you and Pa Pa can go with me!" Our first stop was to pick up her final paycheck from a summer life-guard job. My, how time flies. It seems only yesterday we were carting her 4-year-old self and big brother and little sister around in the back seat of our car. We baby-sat them while their mother worked, and I can still hear her piping up from the backseat, "Pa Pa, if you expect me to keep riding with you, you're going to have to get a new car!"
Now her brother is away at college. Although Corrin seemed to be splurging on herself, she stopped at a men's clothing store on the way home and came out with a gift-wrapped package for his 20th birthday next week.
We had lunched at her favorite steak and shake place where I was looking forward to the tempting ice cream treat in tall, fluted, old-fashioned soda-shop glasses. "Why are our shakes in styrofoam cups?" I asked the waitress when she brought them. She said they had been so busy they had run out of clean glasses! They were good, but not quite the same!
Her younger sister Rachel is now the taller sister, with long, straight, shiny blonde hair, contrasting with Corrin's long, straight, shiny dark hair. Rachel comes in each day worn out from after-school cross-country running. Yesterday their route took them up a mountain, and Rachel reported, "My friend almost stepped on a snake! It reared up and snapped at her!"
Nothing is quite the same, with these middle grandchildren of mine growing up! They date, drive, get jobs and college brochures, and I am thankful for the few moments they squeeze out for us, seemingly listening intently to Pa Pa's stories and my reminiscing until their attention darts elsewhere in their busy lives.
Our shopping trip not only reminded me of clothes buying with their mom at that age, it also reminded me of myself as a teen, standing in front of a store dressing room mirror in awe that everything I tried on was perfect. The years have gone by, and though not everything has been perfect, sometimes I think it is pretty close to it!
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Road Trip
"Howard, I'm afraid for you to do that!" I protested. He was about to follow the example of other drivers that had pulled off the road, driven down into the grassy slope of the neutral ground, and up to the west-bound lane of the intersection, going the opposite direction to escape our traffic tie-up.
We had already seen a passenger from the car ahead of us get out and talk to the trucker in the next lane. Then Howard approached him and had a conversation before getting back into our car. The trucker had given them directions, and just as we were about to follow suit, I shouted, "Wait! The traffic is moving!"
Thank God! We'd been sitting there probably 20 minutes. Now the traffic clog dissipated quickly. We felt for those who were on the alternate road, probably bogged down with cars. "I think God prevented us from pulling off," Howard said, and I agreed. What if we'd gotten stuck, trying to maneuver up the opposite slope? Our 10-year-old car may not have had the spunk of the newer ones that succeeded in their attempt.
This had happened to us once before on this very road, and we'd had to detour and spend the night before getting back on our route. "I think this is the "Bermuda Triangle" of the highway!" I exclaimed of this busy, truck-packed approach to Memphis. Passing the endless, mostly truck-filled line stalled on the other side caused me to remark, "We are a nation of trucks." They looked like a long train, interspersed by the occasional automobile.
Even though we had a GPS, we had to acknowledge it was God who was getting us safely through this 700+ mile trip. Our first nightmare was navigating through Tulsa, which would have been fine, except we missed one marker on a detour route through the city. We found ourselves driving through a residential neighborhood as we searched for our route. Howard stopped and asked directions of a man at a service station, who evidently had misunderstood, telling us I-40 was just 5 miles ahead. Turned out it was I-44. Thankfully, we got proper directions from the next informant and breathed a sigh of relief when the city was behind us.
The Lord guided us safely through the multi-lane Nashville traffic, and the rest of our trip was uneventful, leaving us to admire the beautiful mountains all around us. I am only now discovering that some things are coming up missing. I must have left my good sandals at the motel. I wore tennis shoes for the trip, but got out the sandals to avoid walking barefoot on the motel carpet.
Getting hungry yesterday, I looked for a couple of bananas I had put in a zip-lock bag to bring, but evidently I left them home on the counter. And where were my spare reading glasses? And now my favorite comb is missing. Travel is so distracting! But these are minor details when we consider the big picture, our safe arrival and seeing loved ones!
Road trips are a lot like life. There are obstacles and inconveniences along the way, but somehow or through Somebody we get through the struggles, and with a sense of achievement and thanksgiving. He'll be there to guide us to the end of the way!
We had already seen a passenger from the car ahead of us get out and talk to the trucker in the next lane. Then Howard approached him and had a conversation before getting back into our car. The trucker had given them directions, and just as we were about to follow suit, I shouted, "Wait! The traffic is moving!"
Thank God! We'd been sitting there probably 20 minutes. Now the traffic clog dissipated quickly. We felt for those who were on the alternate road, probably bogged down with cars. "I think God prevented us from pulling off," Howard said, and I agreed. What if we'd gotten stuck, trying to maneuver up the opposite slope? Our 10-year-old car may not have had the spunk of the newer ones that succeeded in their attempt.
This had happened to us once before on this very road, and we'd had to detour and spend the night before getting back on our route. "I think this is the "Bermuda Triangle" of the highway!" I exclaimed of this busy, truck-packed approach to Memphis. Passing the endless, mostly truck-filled line stalled on the other side caused me to remark, "We are a nation of trucks." They looked like a long train, interspersed by the occasional automobile.
Even though we had a GPS, we had to acknowledge it was God who was getting us safely through this 700+ mile trip. Our first nightmare was navigating through Tulsa, which would have been fine, except we missed one marker on a detour route through the city. We found ourselves driving through a residential neighborhood as we searched for our route. Howard stopped and asked directions of a man at a service station, who evidently had misunderstood, telling us I-40 was just 5 miles ahead. Turned out it was I-44. Thankfully, we got proper directions from the next informant and breathed a sigh of relief when the city was behind us.
The Lord guided us safely through the multi-lane Nashville traffic, and the rest of our trip was uneventful, leaving us to admire the beautiful mountains all around us. I am only now discovering that some things are coming up missing. I must have left my good sandals at the motel. I wore tennis shoes for the trip, but got out the sandals to avoid walking barefoot on the motel carpet.
Getting hungry yesterday, I looked for a couple of bananas I had put in a zip-lock bag to bring, but evidently I left them home on the counter. And where were my spare reading glasses? And now my favorite comb is missing. Travel is so distracting! But these are minor details when we consider the big picture, our safe arrival and seeing loved ones!
Road trips are a lot like life. There are obstacles and inconveniences along the way, but somehow or through Somebody we get through the struggles, and with a sense of achievement and thanksgiving. He'll be there to guide us to the end of the way!
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