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Are we there yet?

A repeated question from childhood that often irritated parents from its repetitive use by every child within a traveling vehicle was “Are we there yet?”

When I was a child, I seldom uttered those words because I actually loved to go anywhere because I was fascinated with seeing the world around me.

I loved to see rolling green fields covered with cows gazing. Waters of the rivers flowing and churning by the rocks below. The mountains rising high around me as I tried to look back into every hollow to see if a small house sat there with a chimney shooting smoke into the sky.

When we went into the cities, I would stretch my neck trying to look up at the top of the buildings as we rolled through.

Since I spent much of my childhood as an only, long rides in cars were not much different than occupying my time anywhere around home. In those days we weren’t tied to car seats, so I could move anywhere across the back seat or floorboard of our blue Chevrolet Malibu as I played and filled the hours.

Nighttime was the only periods when I really didn’t enjoy trips because there was little to see beyond the door windows.

But there were many times as a small child, I remember curling up in the front floorboard of the Chevrolet pickup at the feet of my mother near the heat vent where I would go off to sleep and awake when we got to where we were headed.

Feeling warm and safe in that place made traveling a preferred activity when I was small.

Of course, trips for us were largely limited to our annual vacation or periodic trips on holidays to visit relatives. Oftentimes vacations included relatives too.

Today, as I crawl into the driver’s seat to head off for a trip, I do sometimes find myself thinking “Are we there yet?”

I know the answer, but the weariness associated with the act of driving, does make the traveling less appealing to me. I still enjoy seeing the places once I arrive but the monotony of looking out the windshield at the road makes the experience less of an adventure to me.

Often in life, we set goals, create a path, and then forge ahead towards that objective.

Along the way, we sometimes stop and access how close we are to reaching the goal in essence asking, “Are we there yet?”

So, the skill of asking that question, though frustrating to parents can be a blessing as we map out our lives.

Evaluating where we are, where we are going, and if we need to adjust to reach a goal is a great skill.

Finding our way in life day-to-day can be an adventure on its own, I know I am on a constant trend of re-evaluating my position.

Do you feel like you are spinning your wheels? Maybe you are not reaching anywhere close to where you thought you would be? Maybe you need to ask, “Are we there yet?”

A drive that made my heart beat faster

I pushed on through the mountains, my Lumina maneuvering the curves with great accuracy. Snow lay along the roads as I watched diligently for patches of black ice on the interstate.
I had hit a patch of black ice before when I was about 20. I exited Atlanta’s 285 at Doraville returning home from a concert in Marietta. About 20 feet into the circular ramp I found myself spinning out of control. Using every bit of knowledge gained a few years earlier in driver’s ed, I simply did all I could do to not fight it, giving in to the scenario, allowing myself and the car to be out of control by turning into the spin and praying as it eventually came to rest facing the oncoming traffic.
I was blessed that it was about 2 a.m. and no other car was coming off behind me, so I slowly allowed the car to slip backwards off the ice until I was able to turn around and continue my journey feeling like I had just walked out of the scariest scene in a horror film.
I looked in my rearview mirror and headlights seemed to be on top of me. My heart began to race as I realized that the Jim and Jesse song I once recorded – Diesel on My Tail was becoming a reality. As I hugged curves, speeding along trying to stay out of its way, I was not going fast enough in the dark icy conditions to suit the trucker.
I looked at my alternatives and decided to get into the other lane, though there seemed to be a higher probability of hitting ice there.
It seemed in my mirror, no matter where I was, the truck was behind me in my lane. Maybe it was an illusion of the turning roads but needless to say, I continued to do my best to get out of this stretch of the mountains and make it to the flatlands as quickly as I could.
Finally, as we cleared the Appalachians, the truck passed me and sped off into the night.
I continued on the journey home from North Carolina now much more relaxed as the icy conditions were behind me and my greatest concern was keeping my mind occupied and my eyes open.
Before I faced the potential perceived metal peril of tons of truck careening out of control with me in it’s wake, I was thinking of how my ancestors had crossed that same section of mountains making their way westward without the advantages of modern travel.
I am sure that my heart pounded much as that of my ancestors as they perceived the danger of a bear coming close or as they avoided a party of Native Americans out hunting through the area.
I guess the passage of time and the advantages of technological advancement do not change the basics of the human condition. We still find ourselves facing fears, sometimes simply imagined, sometimes real in nature. What makes that experience worthwhile is it reminds us that we must never forget that while the world is beautiful and filled with God’s amazing creations, we can still find those moments and situations that make our heart beat faster, and our mind rush to fear.
It is how we react to those moments knowing that God is with us in every thing, that shows whether we have the ability to continue on that brave path my ancestors walked one step at a time pushing forward into the unknown.