A TRUCKING MAMA

It will be my maiden voyage.  Yes, I am getting to go with Larry in his big tanker truck on an adventure!  We take out tomorrow—providing they have a load ready for us— for parts unknown and will live together in our little orange Condo a la Schneider for two whole weeks. We won’t know where we’re going tomorrow until later today, and once we get to that place, they will then tell us where we go next.  

I’m as excited as a kid at Christmas. However, I think my man is a little trepidatious about taking on this particular partner.  I think he must be imagining that his well-laid schedule will be shipwrecked by having a girl along who, for one thing, can’t jump out and t-t on one of the 16 huge wheels that are pretty easy to hide behind, providing, that is, that you are standing upright in a pretty narrow line, like men do, rather than squatting down into a triangular shape like a mature woman must.  (Two inserts here:  Yes, 16 is right; tankers are mostly 16-wheelers, not 18-wheelers.) And (That was an embarrassingly long and unwieldy—almost run-on-ish  sentence— for an experienced teacher of grammar to have left standing there.)  But I’m in a hurry; my coach pulls out directly, and I don’t want Larry to have any excuse to leave me behind.

Adventures are my favorite food.  For years, I made Larry drive me to fourteen states, some more than once, just so that I could have him drop me off in the middle of the woods, drive 25-60 miles in another direction, and then walk in and meet me on the other end of various sections of the Appalachian Trail.  Every time I would head out, I would always pray that God would show me His glory in unmistakable ways.   I wanted Him to know that I was one of His children who was really paying attention to His creation.  I told Him that if He would lead me to His finest wonders, I would be faithful to appreciate them to the fullest extent and then to go tell everybody who would listen to me what an amazing Creator He is.  He has always answered that prayer in unspeakable ways.  

And now here I am again before Him with the same request.  Oh, I would love to go up East and see some autumnal glory at its peak.  It would be divine to end up in Connecticut and hike through the cool early evening to a lobster shack.  I long to see some of those Thousand Lakes Larry has told me about in Minnesota, or drive through the mountains of Colorado.  It would be thrilling to go all the way up into Canada, as he has done alone twice before.  There are hundreds of scenarios that titillate my imagination as I sit here in Belton and dream.  

And there are a few scenarios that I hope are not our assignments, also.  Houston to Dallas.  Dallas to Oklahoma City.  Or worse, Houston to Freeport or Pasadena or Beaumont over and over for two weeks.  These don’t ring of adventure… not enough of the unknown involved to widen my eyes and elevate my heart rate.  

But, here’s what I have decided— and I’m pretty sure the Holy Spirit has something to do with my attitude adjustment:  God’s makes His glory evident  in more ways than one.  Two old married people living together for forty years, who have for the last six months been way too separated, at last get to be together for more than three days.  REALLY together.  We have missed each other so much.  We hate to let each other go when our short three-day rendezvous are up.  Now, we will have the luxury of waking up just one bunk away from each other for two weeks. 

Now I know what you are thinking, and you are right to be thinking it.  What if that is a little too much togetherness?  Hmmmm.  Well, yes, that is a fair question, and moreover, altogether possible.

And so, this might be how God will show us His glory.  Is God big enough and strong enough and creative and determined enough to get the two of us to be sweet and flexible and patient enough for this thing to be a delightful adventure?  (Oh, it will be some kind of adventure for sure!!)  

And so I am praying for the glory of God to come shining through with all the brilliance our condo can hold, to cushion supernaturally all of those 16 wheels, and to show us His power in whatever way He can’t wait to show us, in whatever ways we need to see it the most.  I am praying again for His unmistakable presence every mile of the way. Even if we only make it to Pasadena, Waxahachie, or Ardmore.