ON THE ROAD

I’m not a fan of long-distance driving. However, it’s something we do on a regular basis, making the round trip to Seattle and back to the desert.

To make the drive more interesting this summer, my husband decided to deviate from driving the I-5 and take a less-traveled route through Bishop, CA, onto the US Route 95, through Nevada, Oregon, and Idaho. I was looking forward to the change. Little did I know that the road through Nevada is even more boring than I-5 through the San Joaquin Valley. The terrain was a flat desert, with almost no signs of human life for miles in any direction. The road was designed by someone who liked straight lines. We joked about the fact that we could predict where we’d be in an hour and how thrilling it was to encounter another vehicle.

Though the monotony got to me, I felt at peace. Leaving behind traffic and being on a less-used route provided time to relax and enjoy the beautiful clear blue skies and the companionship of being with my best friend.

Our trip home was vastly different. On the way home, we sped down the highway with packs of other vehicles.  By the time we arrived in Medford, Oregon, the smoke from the fires blazing away in California changed the color of the sky to a dingy brownish blue. When we stopped briefly in Red Bluff, we were inundated with smoke – our throats got sore and our eyes burned, and the visibility dropped to about two miles on either side of the highway. Since I-5 south of Sacramento was the perimeter line for one of the larger fires, we chose to travel on the old 99. In my 58 years of journeying up and down the west coast, the 99 has always been under construction, which requires intense concentration to stay safe. The stress of driving this bumpy, ever-changing stretch of road, was made worse by the immense number of trucks and cars joining us in avoiding the fire. By the time we arrived in Bakersfield, we were both snappish and ready for our trip to be done.

At this point, it occurred to me that our road trip resembled my life with God. I pray for the long, smooth, and trouble-free roads – the ones that give me a lot of time to sit back and enjoy my relationship with God and others on the ride with me. However, the reality of my life is that I’m constantly under construction – changing and growing, based on the new seasons in my life. I tend to be hyperalert to the things that might cause us to crash or bring harm to someone else. All the while, I’m in a figurative haze, trying to grasp what God is doing around me, and am unable to speak, because I’m choked with fear or overwhelmed by the immensity of the situation.

But the grace of God is irresistible. Just when I think I cannot take any more, He gives me a reprieve – much like the last leg of our journey home through the Mojave Desert and down through Yucca, where we again had wide-open spaces, straight roads with fewer vehicles, and plenty of time to unwind, laugh and talk about our trip together.

As I contemplate our trip in retrospect, I realize how much God was in the details of each part of the journey. I’m so glad I got to experience: Mono Lake at dusk, the wide-open spaces of Western Nevada, the ranchlands of Oregon and Idaho, the Columbia River shimmering like a blue snake amongst the wheat fields of Eastern Washington, the amazing smokey sunset in Red Bluff, the hazy sky that made the lone tree in a field stand out in stark contrast to the landscape, the first glimpse of Mt San Jacinto as we dropped down through Morongo Valley, and the windmills indicating I was reentering my town. Each of these sights along the way highlights the diversity of God’s creation and how together they make a beautiful picture of my life with Him. God and I are on a trip that is ever-changing, full of immense beauty and potential hazards, but I’m always surrounded by His unconditionally love, which gives me a sense of wonder and peace in any situation.

No matter where you are in your life’s journey — be it the peaceful, straight road or the busy, perilous road – take comfort in knowing that God is with you. I encourage you to look for God in the unusual details. How is He trying to communicate with you through the landscape of your life?

Praying that you can live in the wonder of God’s diversity!

Andrea Sanger