In a little over 48 hours, I’ll be strapped into our rented “Adventuremobile,” next to my girl, Mary R Snyder, heading toward our first stop on the Great Girlfriend Adventure. I’ve been the Head of Receiving for this operation, with a nice stock-pile of all manner of GGA supplies, books and prizes (there’s some great stuff in there – you’re going to want to follow along!). There has been copious planning, most especially on Mary’s end, resulting in impressive color-coded spread sheets of events, pit stops, lodging, etc. A packing list has been checked and rechecked, and I feel quite certain that it will get another couple or twenty glances over the next two days. I think we are as ready as we’re likely to ever get.
And yet, we really have no idea what’s going to happen out there. Certainly, a plan is a plan, but since when did that really matter, in the end? There are a lot of variables.
For instance, we don’t know anyone out west.
And then, there’s the fact that we’re driving an unfamiliar road for miles and miles, instead of taking a quick jaunt in a plane to arrive at our destination at a precise time, determined by professionals who handle all of the details from point A to point B. Face it, we’re just two women with a Garmin GPS, who talk a lot.
On top of that, we are not staying at brand name hotels that provide confidence with their uber-high TripAdvisor rating.
In contrast, however, we ARE going to meet a LOT of new people. We’ll talk to them, face-to-face, at restaurants, gas stations, and local sights, listening, as they give us the back story of the random giant boot that has resided in their town since the Big War.
When we get lost (and we will, you KNOW we will), we’ll have the opportunity to see where we ended up instead, and embrace what could very well be a “divine appointment” (also known as the angel who gets us out of there!). From point A to point B, instead of flying over a floor of clouds with our noses in our books, we’ll see the fabric of our nation and how it’s woven its way into the fabric of our lives.
We’ll learn to be eagerly expectant of the gem hiding in the unexpected.
When it’s time to call it a day, we’ll choose charm and kitsch over big-box comfort, and likely find that comfort does not always associate itself with a 5-star rating. And, while I DO appreciate a Heavenly Bed, I think we’re more apt to come away from a night in a tipi with a fresh understanding that comfort can also come from a warm welcome, wide smile and the determination of one person to preserve places along the road that provide the ultimate comfort of connecting to happy moment in time.
While we may not really know the whole plan, the thing that matters most is that we’re not going alone. God called us to go West, on a road trip that I suspect will be very much like the real, true road of life.
The kind that requires getting out there, from behind our walls and into the great unknown, and hooking arms with friends, old and new.
The kind that requires FAITH and ADVENTURE.