Monday, June 3, 2013


Road trips.
We’ve lived in Bakersfield for about 7 months now and have heard that the coast is only about 2 or 3 hours from us. It has taken us this long to plan a day trip to the ocean, but then it has been winter and now spring and it is considerably cooler over by the big water, which is great for our hot summer days here, not so good for winter time when the temps over there are a bit too chilly.

So, having the long Memorial weekend coming up, we decided it was probably warm enough by the ocean to enjoy our outing. We took off early, putting ‘Morro Bay’ into our GPS.
I am a visual person, meaning I learn and process and think in images I see in my mind so it helps me to look at something to learn from; the image will then be in my mind. I love maps because you can see where you are, where you are going to and usually how to get there.  With a good map anyway. I’ve run into some bad ones (my excuse for getting lost at times).

And there is the rub with a GPS.  You can’t always be sure it is giving you a ‘good map’. For one thing, it doesn’t show you a total map of your route, at least ours doesn’t; you have to trust the route it chooses is the right one. When you don’t know how to get to where you are going because you’ve never been there before, or don’t remember from the last time you were there (which is becoming all too frequent), you want a something which does know and will steer you aright. Unfortunately, a GPS will more often than you like send you down a bunny trail, or over a mountain, on the way to your destination.
And so it came about, as we journeyed forth in the westerly direction, making for that great sandy edge of the continent, with its cool breezes and salt air, the phantom lady-voice of the GPS directed us to leave the 2- lane, sometime 4-lane highway, for a 2 lane byway, one with a decidedly country remoteness and curviness as it wound now away from open countryside to twist around the bottoms and over the tops of brown round treeless hills. Tops of hills with no vistas to behold except more blind curves and air sucking drops over crests with no road visible.

Since the brake on the passenger side of the car didn’t work, I had a death grip on the door handle.  At least it kept me in a semi-upright position. I consciously told myself every few minutes, “Relax. Breathe.”
Now, you would think, having lived in the mountains of West Virginia for the past almost-20 years, that curvy roads wouldn’t bother me as though I were some flatlander who’d never hugged the side of a mountain.  I swear there is no such thing as a straight road in the whole state of WV. I couldn’t even read a book on the Interstate-77 freeway to Charleston for the curves. Makes me car sick.

But the difference, or one of the differences, is that on this road trip I had no steering wheel to hold onto. Isn’t it amazing how much easier it is to navigate curvy roads with a steering wheel in your hands? You hardly move from side to side, not like the whipping back and forth you get without that wheel to hang onto.
Another difference is that I was familiar with the roads I traveled in WV.  I knew the lay of the land ahead and how fast I could go around a given curve (see, I had that steering wheel). And how fast I wouldn’t go around any given curve! The road we were on to the beach was an unknown entity and full of fearsome, or potentially fearsome, surprises.

I don’t like surprises. I like knowing what’s ahead. I, frankly, like to have control, which in the case of our aforementioned road trip, I definitely did not have. Have I mentioned the brake on my side didn’t work? And the only thing I could hold onto was the door handle?
And besides, the purpose of this road trip was to get to the beach, not sight-see along the way. We, or for sure, I wasn’t interested in the scenic route, especially since there wasn’t even any scenery of a scenic nature about. Only those brown round treeless hills the tops of which, when reached, weren’t high enough for us to see any scenery.

I wasn’t interested in the trip as much as the destination.
Ah. I feel a metaphor coming on.

Didn’t I just this week email a message of, hopefully, encouragement to Nate and Trudy as they slog their way through the seeming obstacles of life which seemingly are getting in the way of the ministry to which God has called them to West Virginia (bless them)? The question mark is not for the ‘bless them’.
Didn’t I say to them that they are doing ministry as they get their house, that is, their physical dwelling, in order, livable for their family? If they do not have the livable house to live in, they cannot as well do the work for which they believe they went to West Virginia. They are living the work, that is, the ministry, before their neighbors’ eyes as they go about the everyday mundaneness of life.

We tend to think the Destination is our goal. But God is interested in the Process, the journey, the road trip, if you will, to that destination. His Goal is not the Destination but How we get there, ie: the road trip.
My latest road trip to the beach is a metaphor for my overall spiritual road trip. To be sure, I had to get ahold of the proverbial scruff of my neck several times to get my attitude corrected. But then, this is exactly what I am getting at. Attitude checks and readjustments must happen all along the way. Well, at least for me. It is usually called conviction and repentance. I do a lot of “forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward …I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Phil. 3:13, 14)

Yes, I’ve been learning: to hand over control (here, you drive), to stop trying to use a non-existent brake on curves, to relax and enjoy the ride, as much as possible, even when it is not what I anticipated. It is learning to live in the little things of life. Really live. Learning to Praise in the midst of sometimes not so great little (and big) things of life. And to never forget to praise in the good things of life.
So I share with others, like you and Nate and Trudy, the importance of perspective in our journey, of being-in-the-moment of the journey; it’s How we navigate the blind curves and air-sucking drops over crests of hills on which you can’t see the road ahead that is the point; that is the Goal. Relaxing and enjoying the non-scenic scenic route; loosening the white-knuckle death grip on the door handle; taking yourself by the scruff of the neck and telling yourself to ‘breathe’; this is the how.

And it helps to trust the Driver more. He has the wheel, and the brake on his side does work.
“Let’s therefore, as many as are mature, have this attitude (of forgetting what’s behind and pressing on); and if in anything you have a different attitude, God will reveal that also to you; however, let us keep living by the same standard to which we’ve attained. Brothers (and sisters), join in following my (Paul’s) example, and observe those who walk according to the pattern you have in us.” (Philippians 3: 15-17)

(PS We did make it to the coast and had an enjoyable day. Glad I brought my sweater!)

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