My mission to San Antonio is covert: am not at
liberty to discuss in it this public venue. Suffice it to say that I am on an
adventure, the next chapter I had asked God to open. Exciting and new.
I AM at liberty to discuss my relocation to this
southern city. We took to the road, Ivy and I, a week ago. We’ve done this
drive before. Our preferred route, via interstate highways, takes us to Lonoke,
Arkansas on the first day. That little city is about 20 miles east of Little
Rock and is just over half way to the final destination. Right as you turn off,
there are 4 nice dog-friendly hotels that serve a warm breakfast to its human
guests so, as in the past, we planned to arrive before dark, get a good night’s
sleep, rise and eat, and then hit the road again.
That part went by flawlessly…even in Illinois, the
driver did not get stopped for speeding. When we commenced on day two, after I
had filled up my tank, I started to click away on Ms. Garmin, GPS, when she
began to flash something. What? I don’t know what. I had on sunglasses, not
readers. I could make out a middle area that might have said CANCEL. Not sure.
But after several punches, she settled down to show my route back on to the
interstate so we were off.
STILL not positive what the GPS was saying but I am
pretty sure she asked me if I’d prefer to avoid interstates and instead travel
on picturesque little roads that wound through east Texas. I believe I nodded
that message to Ms. Garmin as electronics are only as smart as those who operate
them. And that was my second day drive. As I did not have any other map (!), I
didn’t think it wise to freelance. There’s a lot of open space down in Texas. Plus
snakes and scorpions if you get lost and venture on foot. I knew that Ms.
Garmin had the final address and she also told me when I’d arrive, which was acceptable
so I obeyed her as we traveled through Tyler, Plano, and quite a few ‘population
900’ little towns. At one point, I was on the NORTHERN LOOP….Houston? Dallas?
Sumpin else? Don’t know but stayed the
course.
I discovered The Texas Pass, a neat little habit
down here when you’re driving on 2 lane roads, as I was most of the day. Every
so often, a right lane appears and slower vehicles --- trucks and such --- pull
to the right, not slowing down, so you can pass. We could use that in Indiana
during planting/harvesting seasons.
I discovered lot of traffic lights and when stopped,
I could see that many pedestrians wear their weapons on their belts.
When I stopped for gas, I got Yes ma’amed a lot; in
the adjacent convenience store, there it was, the 20 foot trough filled with
ice and beer, the bottle tops just barely showing. It’s a common sight as you
travel into Texas.
And for my long-time readers, I DID get stopped for
speeding. He clocked me at 73 in a 70.
Yeah. I think he wanted to check out my car. He certainly wanted a
closer look at my license plate. “What state is that from, Ma’am?” (Got a Warning)
Oh, and in fairness to the driver, the speed limits
change often and not just in and out of small towns. And the posting signs are
few and far between. Further south, you can opt for a toll road and cruise
along at 85. I paid that toll.
We arrived, tired and hot, and were greeted by all
sorts of special folks. Then a quick night’s sleep and on to the adventure.
I know I said this to several friends: I felt a bit
uneasy, uprooting from my cottage for an indeterminate time period. I tried to
pack up all that I would need; I had arranged a backup doctor, dentist, hair
person, and car repair shop, trying to prepare for all necessities. But I
couldn’t really place this nagging feeling until I recognized it from a past
time.
When my dad dropped me off at Wheaton College in the
fall 0f 1969 (!), he drove away and as I turned to enter my dorm, I realized
that for the first time in my life, I was alone. I knew no one. I had no
refuge, no friendly face to greet me. It was uncomfortable and it didn’t last:
I’ve never been accused of being shy. However, it WAS a new emotion. I felt
much the same way as I drove to south Texas.
I have family here but no other acquaintances, certainly
no friends. So what? Well, here’s something I discovered this summer. I had
spent my entire life, that brief Wheaton moment to the contrary, surrounded by
friends. I could find someone to talk to, ride bikes with, walk the path
toward, always someone. And I have friends in Winona but what I lacked and knew
that I missed: my Christian sisters with whom I could pray and talk and share and
learn. Such a simply thing and oh so sweet. A few days before I left Indiana, I
was pulling out of my driveway when next door, three young ladies were saying
their goodbyes. They formed a circle, held hands and prayed. It surprised me
how it made my heart ache. I was tempted to stop the car, get out and join them.
Yes, I know it would have been OK, but although I was/am a sister, I was/am a
stranger: these were intimate Christian friends.
Philippians 4:19
“And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory
by Christ Jesus,” I know this is true. Right now, my needs involve spiritual
nurture. I purposed to find a church. It made sense.
San Antonio is flush with churches. Like so many
other things in Texas, most are huge. And though I’m not intimidated by
bigness, I wanted…needed…to find one close enough to me that would begin to
nurture my heart. I prayed about it and I tell about it here because I know
that there are plenty of friends who pray for me.
On Thursday, walking 5 doors down to my place, I saw
a man scrubbing an RV. I introduced myself to Frank and his wife Lynn. A quick
conversation and I learned that he was newly retired from the chaplain corps so
I asked him where they went to church. Smiling, they handed me a card with
their churches services. On Sunday, I attended and learned about how we should
test the veracity of scripture. I was reminded that the Dead Sea Scrolls
confirmed a document from 900 AD with 95% accuracy….the 5% involved spelling and punctuation. Even back then!
Long story short: God has led me to a church. And
soon, a new Christian family.