Are We There Yet?

I am an inter-state kind of girl! Point “A” to point “B” at 70+ miles an hour and zip-boom-bah the destination is ahead on the left! We live just a few blocks from I-20 as does our son and his family…only 6 hours and 5 turns away! They are the parents of our grandsons…interstates are great!

My husband, on the other hand, thinks inter-states are “boring” and prefers the winding back roads with twists and turns. We are different. I just want to get there…to the destination…he wants to enjoy the journey.

I thought about this tonight at Bible study. Do I transfer this to my life? Am I destination-oriented or journey-oriented? I remember as a child taking a trip to Disneyland! I was excited about getting to the Magic Kingdom but these long years later it seems I remember as much about getting there as the actual event! Each day’s travel would end early so daddy and I could swim in the hotel pool and car games like trying to find all the state’s license plates kept me from asking, “Are we there yet?” The novelty of eating breakfast in a restaurant, browsing the cheap souvenir shops or the bee stinging my foot while traveling the multi-laned Los Angeles freeway are all permanently etched in my memory and always bring smiles! Don’t get me wrong, the tea-cups in Anaheim were a blast but getting there was an adventure, in itself.

Sadly, something happened as I grew older…my fascination with just “getting there” took over. If I can just get to 18, then 21… the wedding… have children… get children grown… have grandchildren! I was always rushing to something ahead and on this inter-state kind of life, these things have all come and gone all too quickly.

Thornton Wilder must have been feeling something similar when he wrote the play, Our Town, as it examines life from both sides of the grave. In the concluding scene, one of the main characters, Emily, has died but is given a chance to “go back” for one day and “watch” her life again. The others in the cemetery, having been dead much longer, try to discourage her from doing so, but Emily is determined and chooses her 12th birthday. She observes the simple routine of life–Howie Newsome delivering milk, Constable Warren telling how he rescued a man lying in snowdrifts, Joe Crowell delivering newspapers. Then she sees her mother and father, surprisingly youthful, preparing to give her gifts. She watches herself speak with her mother, who tells her to eat her breakfast slowly. Mrs. Webb gives her a dress which she had to “send all the way to Boston” to get. Her father and Wally also have gifts, but Emily can’t go on any longer and breaks down, saying she didn’t realize how much of the little things of life–things she did not notice before–really matter. Emily returns to the cemetery and addresses Mrs. Gibbs: .......“They don’t understand, do they?” .......“No, dear. They don’t understand.”

I think I am beginning to understand. We are on this life’s journey and one day it will be finished… those of us who are believers can sing with gusto, “When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be!” Oh, it will be and I look toward it with great anticipation but until that day…I want to get off this inter-state- living and travel some back roads-- take some unexpected turns, meet some new folks, tell them where I am going and invite them to come along. While I am still here I want to carry out Colossians 3:10 and do all in the name of the Lord Jesus! I want to live the rest of this life to His fullest and when He is ready to take me home, I want to arrive at my final destination with few regrets…and hope to hear Him say, “Well done my good and faithful servant.”