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Location: Clearwater, South Carolina, United States

Saturday, October 29, 2005


One of my least favorite things in the whole world, just barely ahead of getting a root canal, is to drive in heavy traffic – such as when one dares to venture out on Washington Road in Augusta. The auto crunch is hard to avoid anytime on this particular roadway, especially rush hour, but I have found something that makes it a lot easier to be out in the bumper-to-bumper.

When I fired up the truck the other day to make an errand filled, traffic delayed, white-knuckled, blood pressure raising run through the four-wheelers, the CD of worship music I had listened to on a previous trip cranked up as well. This seemed to be the thing to do, so I turned the volume up a bit and started out on my task. Soon the truck in which I was being transported was not my only mode of transportation as I allowed the Spirit of God to lift me into a place of peace.

The traffic was still there, as were the rude lane-changers and impatient bumper riders, but I was insulated from all this by something much higher and was just not effected by it – somewhat to my surprise. Wow, do you suppose that’s how God meant for us to live? Mind you, I was still alert, because while I am ready to go, I don’t look forward to the pain of passing, especially of being run over 97 times before someone notices that I wasn’t a speed bump. As I worshipped along with - and way beyond - the CD, my dreaded trip became a pleasure.

Nearing the end of my tasks, I happened to go near the neighborhood in which I grew up and decided to transport myself down memory lane. The house in which we once lived seemed much smaller now and painted a different color. They had a different fence around the back yard, I think us kids pretty much demolished the one back then. They even had a tree house and a huge pecan tree – both of which could have been fallen out of with injuries resulting – this would have been the most popular yard in the area back then.

There were three humongous trees in the front yard, all planted by my father while I was away in the army. There was no traffic on this street and I was glad because sentimental journeys go a little slower than others. On up to the corner house and the remembrance of the mayhaw tree they had, the fruit of which my next older sister dearly loved. We were usually confined to our yard if our parents were not home, but she would pay one of the neighbor kids to go up there and pick her a jarful and she would consume them with great gusto and delight.

A little farther down the road, I passed the residence of an ex-girlfriend – one that I did not marry – and a few blocks on down, past the house of another ex-girlfriend – the one I did marry. Then I proceeded on by my old high school with many memories there as well, some pleasant and some not so much so, all colored and shaded by the extreme ignorance of my youth, with its constantly wasted emotions.

My tasks now behind me and headed for home, I passed by another corner of memory lane, the one on which once stood a small bakery in which my Mom worked for many years. I wonder if there will be any chocolate éclairs at the marriage supper of the Lamb?

Wherever and however we are transported, we can still be in God’s love and care, and that makes me glad. ec


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