The Trip to Philly

8/26/06

Departure Day

As I was waiting for my parents to get their car packed, I was sitting in my car and had a couple of minutes to kill, and I really felt led to turn to the Psalms. I opened up my bible, the volume opening to the page beginning with the conclusion of Psalm 116. This psalm has been one that I have often turned to when despair has weaved its way into my life. However, this time tears quickly came to my eyes as the words powerfully spoke to how graciously God has brought me through to the other side. At times over the past couple of years I’ve felt the cords of death wrapping round me - sorrow, fear and anxiety have all wrought havoc in my life – but truly God has kept my soul from death, my eyes from tears, and my feet from stumbling! As I pulled out of the driveway, marking the first steps on this journey, my eyes were filled with tears. Not tears of nostalgia, looking back at all that I was leaving behind, but rather tears of joy and hope – the joy of knowing with certainty that God, who has poured out his great love into this broken receptacle, has heard my plea, and responded with grace. The road ahead is not well lit, and the fear of what lies ahead can still rob me of my breath, but taking this jump is made easier knowing that walking with God is not supposed to be safe, simple, or certain...Hebrews 11 makes this point in words far better than I am able to express.

The ride out to Philly was uneventful for the most part. Way too long, that’s for sure. Not long after we hit the road, I put in Michael W. Smith’s Worship CD. I know, it’s all the rage to bash folks with a “W” between their names, but this particular album resurrects so much of the freedom, love and forgiveness that I experienced when I first came to faith in Christ. Worship was the first worship CD I purchased, a little over 4 years ago. Anyway, after about a half an hour on the road, it started pouring rain, and coincidentally “Let it rain”, song #8 (I think) on the album, came on shortly thereafter. The song is a cry from the heart of man, asking God to open up the floodgates of heaven, to pour out living water into our lives, to breathe life into the dry bones of people who choose to live by faith, even when the world doesn’t seem to make sense. Near the end of the song, which was recorded live, Michael just goes off, crying out to God, asking him to reveal his power, echoing Moses' cry to show us his glory. I’ll admit I’m one of the first to criticize the appeal to emotion so prevalent in contemporary Christian music, but this song never fails to send chills down my spine. It is an appeal to that which we wait for and eagerly expect. Our jacked up lives will be made whole once more, and we will be right with a God who deliberately loves us, even now, in all of our brokenness.

Nevertheless, it didn’t take long for reality to sink in. My father, bless him, adamantly recommended taking a route that I had never even considered; and reluctantly, I admit, I relented. Somewhat of a mistake. The 680 mile, ~12 hr trip according to Google maps ended up in a 900 mile, 17+hr slog. On Day 2, I was so groggy in the morning I had to resort to slapping myself in the face, hard, in order to stay awake. Thankfully my mom came to the rescue, and she drove her car and my dad drove my car for about an hour and a half. My mom’s neck started bugging her though, and eventually she made an executive decision to turn off at the next exit. She woke me up to ask “how this E-Z pass thing works” (we were on the Penn Turnpike). After we got through the toll, we were somewhat startled to see my father getting out of my car, which was parked head-on against the dividing rails between the two alternative roads, and waving his hands frantically, as if to say “Where in the hell are we going?” Anyway, my mom started freaking out, I had just woken up, and well, let’s just say I’m glad that scene isn’t on videotape. I somehow held off my tourettes fit, and by the time we got to Philly it had all blown over.

All kidding aside, I want to make it clear how much I appreciate my parents’ willingness to drive out to Philly with me. My dad and I have never had a perfect relationship, but it has gotten immensely better the last few years. I don’t think he would deny that he has an extraordinarily hard time expressing affection, but I know that he loves me by his willingness to serve me; and because we are wired so much differently, he serves me by doing some of the things that I hate doing the most, or perhaps I just suck at the most…fixing my car especially! I really hope that one day we can move beyond everything that has been said, done, or omitted and that we can know each other. I hope you will pray with me, for I know that God, who is greater than our hearts, is able to do the seemingly impossible.