Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Traffic Jam Ahead
We had to cross several rivers to get to our Mayan village in the highlands. One day we came upon a traffic jam caused by a pickup stalled in the river. Not being the ones stuck, nor being in any particular hurry, we took advantage of the situation to get some pictures of a typical day on the road. After a short delay, the truck recovered and continued across the river; no one worse for wear.
The minor interruption in my journey had not caused me any distress back then, but yesterday as I listened to the news, I wondered how I would have responded had I been in the midst of the 11-day traffic jam in China. There would have been no overhead signs warning me of a delay up ahead, no chance to exit the two-lane road, no bathroom! no blankets, no food, except for what the enterprising villagers provided. Just totally, unexpectedly stuck, with no idea what was ahead or what was behind.
A British couple described how they were happily aglow as they returned from a romantic vacation only to come to a sudden, days-long stop in the thick of the heat, diesel fumes, and irate travelers. In the turn of a minute, everything changed. Their lives and plans caught up in the collective repercussions of an event sixty miles down the road.
Unforeseen traffic jams, floods, catastrophes . . . .
The thing is, I was considering all of this as I was floating in my pool. The contrast between what my body was experiencing and what my mind was thinking stirred up a sense of guilt, which threatened to drown the pleasantry of the moment. Should I be enjoying myself when others are suffering, I wondered.
Then clearly, the very paraphrased lesson from a passage of Scripture (which I'd appreciate if anyone knows where it is) came to mind: No one knows what is ahead. But if I cannot and do not praise and thank God in the good times, how will I have the strength to do it in the bad?
I rolled over, floated on my back, and called to the depths of the deep blue sky.
Bless the LORD, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless His holy name. Psalm 103:1
Marcia Moston Think about a place of your childhood. What do you first see? Whether it’s the family kitchen, the grandparents’ woodshed...
I know she’s around here somewhere, and beautiful as she is, I don’t want to inadvertently stumble on her. (Why do those adverbs sound bette...
Marcia Moston Image credit My father used to play baseball in high school, in a semi-pro league back in the thirties and later, afte...
Marcia Moston Photo credit Stories have to be told or they die, and when they die, we can’t remember who we are or why we’re here...
Marcia Moston The interest in any story, yours included, is not so much what you did, but what you made of it —what you learned, how yo...