We drove toward the sun. It was making its way down to the horizon and was finally low enough that my visor wasn’t blocking the light. I squinted through the bright, amber sunshine and focused on the road. My friend watched for signs. We weren’t lost, because our destination was west of us. We just didn’t know how far north or south we had to go. A missed turn at a junction more than a hundred miles earlier had us trying to figure out an alternative route to the town and our hotel. Weren’t road trips supposed to be like this?
He made a playlist on his iPod just for the drive. It contained nineties music. We laughed at songs by Annie Lennox, Busta Rhymes, Smash Mouth, the Cranberries and Blackstreet. We may have poked fun at the music, but we secretly loved each of the songs. Detours and bathrooms stops weren’t out of the question, even if the sun was almost down and we were late for our check-in at the hotel, where his sister and a few of our other friends waited for us.
Signs told us how far we were from towns we didn’t know existed, but none mentioned our destination. My buddy had been there before, so we turned and headed north when he thought he recognized an intersection with a narrow, dirt road. We ascended from the valley and open fields into pine trees and curvy roads. Our speed dropped considerably after I almost hit a deer that decided it wanted to frolic across the street when it saw my little orange hatchback coming. A little more than an hour later, we emerged from pine trees to a small town that at least had a gas station.
Jake, you should stop here. I have to pee and you can ask for directions.
Dude, I have to go too. You can ask for directions.
I’ll race you!
I swerved into the parking lot, stomped on the brakes, yanked my key from the ignition, threw my door open and ran toward the glass-door entrance. We approached the set of doors at the same time, so I threw my shoulder into his and attempted to push him out of the way. I pulled on the handle but the door didn’t move. I jerked back harder and realized that I was an idiot when he pushed his way through on the other side, waved to the clerk and meandered back to the bathroom.
The man at the counter smirked as I pushed the door open and began to ask for directions. His amusement grew as he informed me that we were several hours north of our destination. The whole thing made me feel tired, but I knew that I could listen to “Walking on Broken Glass” a few more times that night and still be alright with it. We’d have to roll the windows down and keep the music loud to make sure I didn’t fall asleep and drive off a cliff. We bought candy and bitter, middle-of-nowhere-gas-station-coffee to keep us awake.
We laughed more going back down the mountain than on the way up. His sister called several times but phone reception was non-existent. She screamed at us when we finally showed up at the hotel at two in the morning, but she was relieved enough to finally sleep once she calmed down. It was worth it.
Part of me thinks that the added miles and wasted gas kind of sucked, but at the same time, I had fun after we finally figured out where we were going. It’s okay to be wrong, to travel down wrong roads and make mistakes. Sometimes, these little failures contribute to our lives in ways that we won’t recognize until we’re dead and watch it all over again. We just can’t remain wrong. We turn around. We repent. We change and we’re all the better for it. Hopefully, there’s a story to tell when we’re done, too.
I’m looking forward to the day when you finally write a book!
Loved this post. Seriously. And I love your point at the end that sometimes failures contribute to our lives in ways we don’t realize. It’s hard to see that during the failure, but even now I’ve seen some of my mistakes or bad judgements turn around into something good. It’s amazing how God does that.
Jason, you’re talkin about the dream there man! Someday. Hopefully sooner, rather than later. Our failures teach us so much more than we know and honestly, I wonder how often God doesn’t necessarily orchestrate a failure but rather, allows it, you know?
Okay, the image alone was worth the visit. The last paragraph was powerful. Especially, “We just can’t remain wrong. We turn around. We repent. We change and we’re all the better for it.” – yes.
Kathy, thanks! I had a talk with someone the other day who was “searching” and trying to find God but she didn’t want to commit to any religion or faith at all because she didn’t want to be wrong. That line came out of that conversation and I was even a little like, “whoa” with it 🙂
So good! I’ve been thinking a lot about something a friend said…”Our homes should be the safest place for our children to fail.” I’d rather have them learning life lessons in the presence of those that love them & support them unconditionally. I’ve been thinking how it should be the same with the church. I’m thankful for the times I’ve failed in front of friends that are able to help me realize I’m lost, show me a better path for my life, and love me anyway. Hoping I’m this type of friend (and mom), too!
You know it sounds like you got a lot from that little detour, I think I did too from reading it… BUT! Annie Lennox??? Dude! Your a better man than me! I don’t think I could make it through one verse of an Annie Lennox song! I can’t even stomach her original stuff when she was part of the Eurythmics!!!
Taking a wrong turn or getting lost is never to bad as long as God’s in the drivers seat… Good job Jake. I may have over stated the Annie Lennox thing… But it was fun!
Floyd, I think that Annie Lennox and David Bowie are the same human, but one has to admit that even though they’re both freak shows, they wrote some catchy songs! They’re complete kitsch, but that’s part of the appeal 🙂 I think that making wrong turns feels like a waste of time, especially when we know where we want to go but anymore, trying to get places seems like it’s the wrong approach, too.
We can’t remain wrong. We turn around. We repent.
Man that is some stout stuff. Love the picture that it paints.
Thanks Michael! When we think about it, God doesn’t get pissed at us before we know truth, but it’s after we reject it that He seems to have a problem (to an extent anyway… there are plenty of scenarios that don’t fit that statement….)
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