A Journal of Joy: Things that make my heart smile…
By Barbara Dahlgren
We spent ten or so years ministering in Appalachian areas and I’m not saying the roads were bad but they did leave a lot to be desired. Okay…they were bad.
The “road” stories I could tell are too many to mention. When we first moved to West Virginia, we were traveling late at night on a two-lane, curvy, mountainous road. Being impatient, I asked my husband why he was driving so slowly. He said, “Because I want to be sure the road hasn’t washed down the mountain.” Sure enough, we happened onto a section where a large chunk of our lane was gone. These were the paved roads.
In Kentucky, we actually had to drive down a creek bed to visit a person who looked just like Mammy Yokum including a corn cob pipe and coffee can spittoon.
Once, we were driving on a small road on the side of a snowy mountain to visit a family from our church. Our car slid and perched itself half on the road and half dangling a bit off the road, sort of in midair. Fortunately, the part in midair was on my husband’s side so I crawled out my car door with our two daughters, ages seven months and two years old. We trudged down the road to the farm house. The family and I were pondering how to rescue my husband or if we would ever see him again when all of a sudden we heard a car coming. Miracle of miracles – up drove my husband. I admit that he is a great driver but I think we have to give God the credit for this one!
Curvy roads were not new to me because much of my childhood was spent navigating such roads in southeast Missouri in the foothills of the Ozarks. Those two-lane roads were so hilly and curvy I would get carsick often, much to the chagrin of my parents. Some roads were like riding on a roller coaster. As you drove up a hill you could not see what was on the other side until you reached the top. You learned to drive slowly and stay way over on your side of the road because there could be an unexpected curve waiting on the other side or a car veering into your land. I think there are some parallels to be made here for our journey through life.
Before we got married, I told my city slicker fiancé about these roads but he didn’t believe me. However, when we went to visit my country cousins, he got so carsick I had to drive while he laid down in the backseat with his eyes closed.
When our children were little, we spent many hours on country curvy roads in Appalachian areas. Our young daughters suffered from the same carsickness I had at that age. Many a trip included them barfing out a car window or into a bucket I carried in the back seat. My sympathy for what I put my parents through increased dramatically. Ah, what memories!
On one such trip, our daughters were riding in the back seat with an intern who was spending the summer with us helping with ministry. Our daughter Shelly had her head resting on George’s lap. I glanced back and recognized a certain expression on her face and shouted, “Get her to the window – quick!” George was stunned but got her to an open window just before she emptied the contents of her stomach. George was a bit shaken and said, “I don’t know how you knew she was going to do that, but I will be eternally grateful!” And he has been because he tells me each time we reconnect even though it happened forty years ago.
Straight roads are fine but the scenery on the curvy roads is spectacular. Hillsides of green, majestic mountain views, wildlife, and lush plant life. Of course, you can enjoy it more if you aren’t carsick or almost rolling down a mountain side. Ah, but, that is where the adventure lies in the journey. God never promised me life would be without twists, turns, ups, downs, detours, queasy feelings, curves, or side trips. He did, however, promise to be with me every mile of the journey. Finally, after all these years, I’m learning to let Him drive so I can enjoy the ride.
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Dear Heavenly Father, I thank you so much for my childhood. You gave me the best of both worlds by living in the city and spending so much time in the country with loved ones. Thank You for preparing me for our years in Appalachia. How I love those people! They are honest and sincere and love You deeply. The roads may have been curvy but the ride was magnificent. As far as my life’s journey goes, I know You are a better driver than I. Relinquishing control to You has not been easy. Help me to continue to trust You in this lifelong process.
