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| My destination |
I
should’ve arrived at Cairn University in Philadelphia in less than three hours.
My problem was not listening to that sweet voice speaking from my phone giving
directions. The brochure for the Greater Philadelphia Christian Writer’s Conference
said take exit 44 off I-95 so that’s the way I wanted to go. I was sure my
phone was rebellious and being annoying, insisting I get off at different exits…so
I decided to ignore it until I reached exit 44.
My journey
began around 1:30 without any glitches. There was the usual sluggish traffic
leaving long island and the wonderful smell of exhaust fumes and pollution, but
no major problems. Shortly after
crossing the Verrazano Bridge, clouds grew dark grey ahead until they burst. Sheets
of rain poured as I drove to a rest stop, but I could relax since I had less than
an hour to drive.
The
smooth ride slowed down until my car was crawling along with traffic for at least
thirty minutes. It looked like two trucks had smashed into each other and the
divider. A body lay on the ground under a bag with feet sticking out. It was horrific. All I could do was pray and keep driving.
I knew
something was wrong when my phone started adding time instead of subtracting
minutes. At the next exit it said to take, I listened. Somehow it led me back
on I-95 in the other direction. My phone said I had another hour and thirty
minutes to go.
Finally
I reached the street and heard: “You’ve arrived at your destination.” I wished
my phone could answer questions. “Are you sure? Where’s the university? I was
parked in front of a house in a quiet neighborhood. I grabbed the brochure to check
the directions again. The address on the front of the brochure, the same
address I typed into Google Maps, was the address of the director of the
conference. I was at her house, not Cairn University.
I typed
the correct address in to discover I had another fifty minutes to drive. At
this point, I’d already driven for almost seven hours. I didn’t cry, just kept
driving until I saw a sign for New Jersey, and panicked. Did I pass it again?
What if I clicked on a different Langhorne? What if I was still going the wrong
way? A gas station clerk assured me I was heading the right way. Forty more
minutes. Would this ride ever end?
Eventually,
I arrived at the conference safely after eight hours of driving to hear the closing
of the first meeting. One of the staff had me wait with a woman who also had a
much longer bus trip because of the rain. We both had passed the same car
accident on opposite sides of I-95, her leaving Maryland, me going there. She
was so calm, accepting whatever circumstances happened. “God must have a
reason.” And I agreed. I would not have met this lovely woman if I didn’t
arrive at the same time she did.
One of
the speakers spoke about writing with God and following His direction. “Bohemian
Creativity Realm.” Not forcing my plans, but enjoying the experience of writing
with Him and accepting the twists and turns and ending up in a different place
than expected. My drive was the perfect illustration. I thought I would arrive
in time for the book signing and hear the first speaker—instead, I got to sing
the last song about His Amazing Grace, and spend the evening getting to know
Lynn. She lifted my spirit and helped me laugh about the unexpected. After the
challenge of reaching my destination, I felt blessed.
On
the way home, I listened to the voice on my phone as if God were reading the
directions. Next trip I'll bring an old-fashioned map.
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