Two Perspectives on Travel

After the sunset faded from the sky and darkness descended, I sat in the passenger seat wondering how much longer it would be before we stopped for the night.  Ten hours had passed since we started driving that morning, and it was still several hours before bedtime.  We talked, listened to the radio and I dozed a little.  I was bored.  There was not much to do except watch the cars pass us on the highway as mile after mile of darkness passed.  

It was my first experience of realizing that Charlie’s goal is to get to our destination.  He does not really enjoy himself until we get there.  Then he is ready to enter full vacation mode, or whatever else is the purpose of the trip.  His motto for travel is “Conquer the trip!”  It is not that he does not appreciate seeing the flowers as we fly by them on the highway.  He just does not want to stop long enough to smell them.

“Enjoy the journey!” is my motto.  Every day is an adventure, whether at home, on the road, or in another country.  So I enjoy making plans to stop along the way and see the sights that we would otherwise pass.  So yes, let’s stop and take pictures of scenic vistas, smell the honeysuckle, and run across the sand to dip my feet in the ocean.  I enjoy seeing what the day will hold, especially when the routine of being at home is gone.  

Over the years, Charlie has made many concessions to my desire to stop and enjoy the scenery, stretch my legs, or stop at historic places.  I am more willing to go the distance of putting in 15-hour days in order to please him.

Air travel is different.  Once we buy our tickets, we have very little control over what happens.  However, our perspectives still emerge.

Long layovers in airports?  I use the time to watch the parade of people as they cross paths briefly in a location where they do not plan to stay.  I wonder who they are and where they are headed.  I write or read books and enjoy the layover.  Sometimes I strike up a conversation with strangers, especially if they have children or if they look like they would appreciate a chat.  Charlie uses the time well too, but it is grueling for him.  He just wants to get there.

Delayed planes and missed connections?  For me, it’s part of the adventure.  After all, we never would have stayed overnight in an expensive hotel in Japan if there had not been a problem on our return from India. While Charlie appreciated that particular perk, he generally sees these as disruptions to the goal of arriving at our destination on time.  “Conquer the trip!” is still his motto.

It is, perhaps, one of the reasons God put us together.  I need more of his goal-oriented punctuality.  He needs more of my enjoyment of life.  Together we get a little bit of both perspectives.

Fathers

Today I want to give tribute to my dad, a man who blessed me in many ways through the years.

First of all, I appreciate his dedication to God.  That dedication was demonstrated to me as a child in many different ways.  One of my clearest memories of that commitment was my father's morning ritual.  Every morning I could find him sitting in the living room with a Bible open on his lap.  Then his prayer list would come out and his eyes closed as he prayed for his wife, his children, and so many other people God had placed on his heart.

It also saw his dedication in his willingness to stand for what he believed.  As a young man, it meant giving up a lucrative career as a mortician to go serve God in the jungles of Dutch New Guinea.  Later in life, it often meant standing alone.  Sometimes it meant being misunderstood and rejected.  At home, it meant having definite standards for what we would and would not do as a family.  During difficult times, when God's voice was not clear, I saw him pursue God in late-night prayer and fasting.  At every turn, if you were to ask him why he had made a decision, the answer was the same.  It was what he believed God would have him do.

One of my treasured memories of my father was when he taught me to play softball.  We had arrived home on furlough, and I was playing the game for the first time at a family reunion.  I was eight years old.  While I could play soccer and shoot a bow and arrow, I had never encountered a softball.  No matter how hard I tried, I could not make contact with that ball.  I ended up in tears, feeling like a failure and rejoined my family.  My dad took me aside and taught me to watch the ball.  Under his direction, I made contact.  From that day on, I could hit that ball.  I never did very well as an outfielder, but I could hit and run.

Reading to his two eldest children

Another favorite memory is storytime.  Both my parents read to us, but when my dad read, he took on different voices for the various character in the story.  He roared like a lion or purred like a kitten.  His version of the story was so dramatic that we were immediately pulled into it.

Yet as much as I adore and respect my dad, he does not come close to my heavenly Father.  Dad could not provide eternal salvation for me.  He did not give His Spirit to be with me constantly to guide, convict, and direct me through life.  His advice was not flawless.  He will not be with me here in this life forever.  While there are times when Dad is only as far away as a phone call, my heavenly Father is always by my side.

I am thankful that my dad taught me to trust my Heavenly Father.  I can think of no greater truth that an early father can teach his children, and I can think of no better way to teach it to others than to live those truths each day.

Road Blocks and Detours

We rounded a corner and saw it - a tree lying across the road.  A crew had just arrived and was beginning to start their chain saws to go to work to remove it.  One by one the cars turned around to find another route.

Road blocks.  We have occasionally encountered them on our journeys.  On this trip, however, we have had many more than usual.  They were not trees in the road but changes in plans.  One thing after another seemed to go wrong, and we had to readjust our plans.  Every time a change in plans was necessary, we wondered why it was happening.

Detour!  It was no surprise after all the road blocks we had encountered on our trip, that a detour arose.  Less than two weeks before we were supposed to leave for Peru, the home office called.  "Can you stay in Peru longer?" Matt inquired. After all the road blocks that had already forced detours in our schedule throughout the past few weeks, the question was not a surprise and our answer was easy.  "Of course!" we replied.  Suddenly we understood.  All of those road blocks that had forced us into new paths were simply God's way of preparing us for this detour.

Then began the frantic preparations for the new schedule.  Coordinate with our Latin American director to meet us in Lima.  Cancel the original plane reservations and make new reservations.  Cancel the overnight stay in Panama and reserve an overnight in Lima, Peru.  Add an additional week to the trip to go to Iquitos, Peru, and rearrange meetings that were planned for that time in Maine.  Find out from the LA director what we should teach while in Iquitos.  Look for additional materials needed for teaching those classes.  On and on the list goes.

I wonder what other road blocks and detours still await us.  No matter how many there are, I know that God has gone ahead of us to prepare the way.

Saying "Goodbye" to Facebook

In 2008 I joined the thousands of older people who joined Facebook.  In the beginning, I found it a helpful tool.  Through it, I:

• regained contact with old friends and caught up on their lives.
• learned of prayer requests and was able to pray with meaning and understanding.
• quickly heard of important news in the lives of friends and family.
• used it to reach out and encourage the hurting.

Over the years, however, I have had increasing difficulties with using Facebook.  These have been some of my concerns:

• I met people who spent way much too much time on Facebook, and I wondered if I was adding to their temptation to misuse their precious time.
• I even wondered if I was encouraging an addiction or participating in their sin by being on Facebook without saying anything.  Yet things written can be so easily misunderstood that I did not want to have that conversation except in person.  And how could I have an "in person" conversation with someone who lives thousands of miles away?
• More and more people are linking articles and videos rather than sharing personal information. I joined Facebook for the personal information.  Today as I scrolled through my news feed, I counted.  The fifteenth item was finally something personal.
• Statistics tell us that heavy social media users are less happy than those who are not.  
• I have different levels of openness with people that I know well compared to people who are just acquaintances.  Yet Facebook links all of them together, so that I find myself sharing at a more superficial level than I would with my close friends.
• I did not join Facebook for the private message function, but I find myself using that more than anything else. Won't email work just as well for that?
• Most of my life is not worth sharing.  When it is worth sharing, I can put in a blog.
• Facebook is finding more and more ways to advertise to me while I am reading the news feed.  

When I first noticed some of these issues, I decided to reduce my usage. I told people that if they wanted to be sure I saw something, they needed to tag me.  Of course, that is not the way most people operate, so I found that people assumed I had seen or read something when I had not.  Even though I have told people that I was reducing my usage, people expected that I would be there frequently.

This week, some of the issues hit home in a new way.

• I have limited time.  I want to see if my time benefits from not being on Facebook.
• I have limited roaming data.  This week my roaming data maxed out while I slept.  I believe that it was because Facebook was busy downloading photos that I did not request and did not even view.
• I have a limited capacity to interact with people.  Sociologists tell us that we have a capacity to keep about 600 people active in our lives. If I am on Facebook with my 400+ friends there (and it could easily be more than that), will I neglect the needs of the people who are right outside my door?  
• I miss the old ways of sharing information.  This week a friend asked me, "Did you hear about what happened to ______?"  I had because I had seen it on Facebook.  But when she said that, I thought, "I would have rather have heard it from you first."  Maybe if everyone knows I am not on Facebook, they will think to call me when they have important news to share.  Then again, maybe not, and maybe that is fine too.  I never used to think there was a problem with catching up after years of being apart.

So Facebook and I are going our separate ways, at least for a while.  It will give me time to listen to the sweet voice of God and see whether HE wants me to be on Facebook.  If He does not, I will not be back.  If He does, I will, though I will need His guidance on how to make it work better in the future.
 
I still want to stay in touch with people, but I am hoping that telephones, email, and mail will be enough to get the job done right.

Travel Through Ontario

How do you get from Wisconsin to Maine?  Through Canada, of course.

We have friends in Kincardine, ON, whom we have not seen for several years.  We first met Abby when she was 12 years old.  Now she is married to a pastor and the mother of three adorable children, two of whom we had not yet met.  It was definitely time to renew our acquaintance with them.  We made contact and then made plans to stay over with them.

Traveling through Michigan's Upper Peninsula, we often caught site of a placid Lake Michigan off to the right.  Stopping at a rest area, I ran to the beach to catch some pictures of the sunset.  We traveled on until the daylight was gone and we crossed Mackinac bridge in the moonlight.  Traveling on through the darkness, we eventually found a hotel for the night.

The next day was again clear and bright and we headed toward the border. "Welcome to Canada," the signs greeted us.  The immigration officer asked us his questions, and we resumed our journey through the farmland of Ontario. 

"It reminds me of Iowa," Charlie commented.  He was right.  Farm after farm covered the flat lands and gently rolling hills.  Also similar to Iowa were the small towns at each of the major intersections of highways.  The signs were almost all in English, so that did not distract us from the feeling of being else
where.  Only the metric speed limit signs were a constant reminder that we were not in the U.S.  Of course, even though we could not see it, we knew that Lake Huron was just beyond the trees.  This part of the province is surrounded by water.

CA$ 113.9 per liter

The gas station signs were rather startling.  We knew the price reflected the price per liter, but at first glance your mind says, "Wow, gas is cheap."  Of course that quickly changes to a realization of how much more gas costs in Canada than in the US.

After only six hours in the car, we arrived at our hosts' home.  Four-year-old Judah and his father were outside playing and came to greet us.  Soon the rest of the family spilled out of the house and joined us.  Hannah acted shy, but quickly warmed up when she found out I could read to her.

It was a busy day for Judah - swimming lessons followed by soccer practice.  His dad took him swimming and then we headed out together to drop him off for his Tim Bits soccer game.  While Judah got started on his soccer game, Abby took us around town to show us their church and the town.

That night we researched which road to take up to Maine - the southern route crossing over near Niagara Falls, through NY, MA, and up to Maine or the northern route through Ontario, Quebec, and down through Maine?  We went to bed still unsure.

In the morning, Abby fed us breakfast with really good coffee.  We said our goodbyes and were once again on the road. 

Mile after mile, one farm blending into the next, we traveled until we saw the signs, "Welcome to the United States of America."  The wait at the border was longer here, but still not a very long one.  "Anything to declare?" the immigration officer asked.  With a negative answer and the realization that we had only been in the country 24 hours, we were once again back on the familiar roads of New York

Only 673 miles to go.  After traveling more than 2100 miles in less than a week, that does not sound too bad.  Here we come, Maine!