It was 5:45pm and I was rushing my daughter to finish eating her hot dog and brocolli, the quickest meal I could make and still leave the house in reasonable time to make church at 6:30. As I woofed my own meal down, I tried not to get frustrated as I watched her savor over every bite, push her silverware from side to side next to her pretty melamine plate. At a little too late past 6:00, we were on the road and on our way. Everything was going great. And then we got to the exit. Traffic was backed up onto the highway-not a good sign, even at the tail end of rush hour.
As we crawled down the exit and, finally, made our way to the road which leads to the church, it became apparent that something was amiss. As I listened to the radio, the service in question began to broadcast and my anxiety increased. Here we were, so close, and yet something was keeping us from getting from here to there, and the radio broadcast a service I longed to be a part of. As well, my girl had been looking forward to taking part in the kids' program again. This routine is still new for us, but it feels good, like taking positive steps to join in a spiritual community and partake of a valuable message. Like listening and feeling the vibe and making an effort to say,"Yes, I want to hang out with you and your people, God."
As it turned out, the gates at the railroad tracks were stuck into place; no one was getting past them. Adding to my frustration was the fact that the police officers who had been sent to the scene were making no effort to direct us toward a solution, other than to abandon plans. Reluctantly, I drove ahead back to the highway and home. I thought once to take a different exit, but traffic at that exit was jammed up, and by this time the clock had meandered to 7. I turned up the radio and listened to the pastor as we drove home, my little one crying in the back seat.
Earlier in the evening, my neighbor and I were talking about how sometimes God, for reasons unknown and sometimes quite vexing to us, makes the path He wants us to take difficult for us to embark upon. Even though we feel in our very bones that we're on the right path, things are being thrown in our way, blocking that path, making that path downright uncomfortable to be on. I think that sometimes God does this sort of thing to test us, and if we recognize these tests they can lead us to growth and even to a greater appreciation when we finally acheive what we've set out to do.
For me, I believe this test was related to something I've been trying to teach our daughter. Lately I've been noticing that she has great difficulty dealing with situations when they don't go the way she'd like them to. Fists clenched tight, she shakes her way through such situations, eyes squeezing out tears. I've been working on this with her, this learning of coping skills, but isn't the best lesson taught by watching someone else "do"? I tell her that when something doesn't go according to our plan, we need to let go of the expectation and try to rework our plans into what is still possible. Tonight, I had a choice. I wish I could say that I passed this test without complaint, but I did not. What I did do was turn up the radio, listen to the Pastor, enjoy the sermon as my little car sped back down the highway. When we got home, I turned on the lap top and watched the live video, speaking words of gratefulness that this option is available at all. It wasn't as dynamic as sitting, singing, swaying in the sanctuary, but it was what I could do. And it was still good.
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