Catawba Road
Time flies but memories hang on with lessons learned.
It seems like just last summer, but it’s been ten years since I rode my bike across the country. Claudia kissed me goodbye in Yorktown, VA and four days into the journey I stopped to see her at her brother and sister-in-law’s place just west of the Blue Ridge. On Mother’s Day it was truly launch day for this solo trip I had imagined for so long.
With plenty of questions packed into my panniers, we waved to one another until the trees blocked the view back. My map was set and the days ahead carefully planned with where I could camp or sleep with a Warmshowers host.
After more than a few miles along the Blacksburg Road I made my turn onto Catawba Road. All was good until I realized, a far piece down that route, that I was back at the junction with Hwy 220, not far from where I began the day. I had turned left on Catawba, when the map wanted me to go right. Decision time: I could loop back to the house with my tail between my legs and start again tomorrow, or suck it up and turn around and backtrack to the right route.
Grumbling and beating myself up, I retraced my steps and got on the right route, but the many added miles and extra time threw my carefully curated itinerary into the dumpster labeled “best laid plans”.
On that hot/humid/hilly day 5 ride I had to call my planned host for the night to cancel and instead grabbed a cheap room in a small college town motel that smelled of beer and cigarettes. I wrestled that evening over missing the turn that was plainly visible and starting out behind in my plan. There were upsides (later understood), but at that moment I saw none. Color me discouraged.
The following days, as I trekked through southwest Virginia and eastern Kentucky Appalachia, I continued to stub my toes on missed turns and close calls, steep hills and downpours, but slowly got to understand how wrong turns can lead to new adventures. I got better at navigating back roads and leaning into hard things.
Where did I get the idea that my well-researched and carefully planned next steps had to be realized if success might be enjoyed?
How did I grow so rigid (maybe arrogant) to think I knew how best to ride through country I had never traveled?
Why did I struggle with each unmet expectation or mechanical breakdown or angry motorist and possibly miss what they uncovered right in front of me?
How much unnecessary grief did I endure because I did not view the unexpected wrong turn as an on-ramp for a new adventure?
It’s one thing to learn this stuff on a bike tour, it’s quite another to weave this into the fabric of daily living.
Being a “list-guy”, I can easily rattle off to Claudia what my day holds, or at least what I plan for it to hold. I love the satisfaction of mentally checking off items, and carrying, like a “perfect attendance” award at school, the sense of accomplishment that comes with each finished task, appointment, chore, or even a scheduled nap.
Frustration barks at my heels when life happens and interrupts the agenda. I try never to be late. Friends tease me that “I gotta go” should be on my tombstone.
That label is less a joke than an indictment. What have I missed along the way by holding to my plan? With whom did I not even see to connect?
It’s interesting to look over the shoulders of the writers of the Jesus history in the Book to watch him move about his days.
Purposeful but never in a hurry
Alive to all those around him
Aware that God was in the midst of every encounter
Daily plans always open to interruptions
Some of you Type B folks might struggle to relate to this post, but for many I bet it rings true. So, one question must be, “In this area of creatively planning but holding plans with a loose grip, how can I grow to be more like Jesus and less like Al?”
The lesson from this week’s post is simple and straightforward: Rather than take yourself (or someone who you blame) to the woodshed when you miss a turn on your Catawba Road, perhaps look around for what it uncovers. What, if you kept to the plan, might have been blown right by but now stares you in the face. That might be the God-appointment your plan never accounted for.
You will make wrong turns every day, count on it. A good thing to remember is that the disciples didn’t have it all together either, and they changed the world. What makes you think you are any different?
Once we hold our plans with a loose grip, the Holy Spirit freely flexes and directs us. Our God masters in transforming wrong turns into new adventures, not all pleasant but each one worth the effort.
I’m getting better at all this even though I haven’t outlived the “I gotta go” moniker. Progress, not perfection, right? And looking back, I’m thankful I missed the turn on Catawba Road for all I learned along the way.
Music for the week
Lame joke time! Ready? Set. Go!
Guy talk
"I'm going fishing."
Really means: "I'm going to stand by a stream with a stick in my hand all day, while the fish swim by in complete safety."
"It's a guy thing."
Really means: "There is no rational thought pattern connected with it, and you have no chance at all of making it logical."
"Can I help with dinner?"
Really means: "Why isn't it already on the table?"
"Uh-huh." "Sure, honey." "Yes, dear."
Really means: Absolutely nothing. It's a conditioned response.
"It would take too long to explain."
Really means: "I have no idea how it works."
"We're going to be late."
Really means: "Now I have a legitimate excuse to drive like a maniac."
"Take a break, honey, you're working too hard."
Really means: "I can't hear the game over the vacuum cleaner."
"That's interesting, dear."
Really means: "Are you still talking?"
"Hey, I've got my reasons for what I'm doing."
Really means: "And I sure hope I think of some pretty soon."
"I can't find it."
Really means: "It didn't fall into my outstretched hands, so I'm completely clueless."
"You know I could never love anyone else."
Really means: "I am used to the way you yell at me and realize it could be worse."
"You look terrific."
Really means: "Please don't try on one more outfit. I'm starving."
"I'm not lost. I know exactly where we are."
Really means: "No one will ever see us alive again."
**************************
A golfer hooked his tee shot over a hill and onto the next fairway. Walking toward his ball, he saw a man lying on the ground, groaning with pain.
"I'm an attorney," the wincing man said, "and this is going to cost you five grand!"
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," the concerned golfer replied. "But I did yell 'fore.'"
"I'll take it," the attorney said.