Guiding Lights

Terry and I made the decision to do road trips only at a certain time.  We don't like to travel the mountain passes after October and don't take to the roads again until April.  So we stay close to home for those months.  Our daughter knew that scheduling her surgery, the very last of September, would put me on the road home in October.  But we all felt confident that things would be fine as we were still a couple of weeks out from Halloween.

Mid-October we were watching the road reports and I was getting antsy.  The weather shifted, the temperatures dropped, the wind picked up and it felt wintry in the air.  I was waiting for the Surgeon to give her a clearance, as far as all is well, and I would head home.  I packed the day of her last appointment and headed out the next morning. 

A little rain steadily grew to a downpour.  Visibility on the pass felt non-existent.  Tail-lights vanished, road lines seemed washed away, standing rode water looked lake like and the spray from tires just felt like I was driving in a car wash.  The windshield wiper was going as fast as it could and was still inadequate.  I felt cotton mouthed.  I was tense and scared.  I couldn't get any perspective on where cars were.  


My prayer was one for guidance.  literally.  The idea came to me to lift my line of vision.  To not focus on the tail-lights that would suddenly faintly show up and make you realize you could have smashed them.  There was one big tractor trailer a ways ahead of me and by raising my sights I could see his line of red lights across the top of his rig.  I pulled a little closer to the truck.  I really couldn't see his taillights to well but I could see those upper lights rather clearly, even through the downpour, by shifting my gaze upwards.   

I felt to follow those upper lights.  To trust the driver that he could see things,from his vantage point, that I couldn't.  If he opted to change lanes, then I trusted there would be a reason, unknown to me but I would follow blindly and maybe see the purpose of his passing.  Maybe not but I'd still do what he did. He wove his way clear to the summit and then down in the same pattern.  I followed in complete faith never seeing the path ahead.  He'd go left and then back to the right and then reverse the pattern.  I never lost my focus.  I'd see cars when we passed them.  some were stopped and pulled over.  others were inching along.  I was so thankful- for the guidance and safety and how watched over and protected I felt, as I followed the leader.  I knew the Lord had provided me with the help I asked for.  I was tearfully thankful.  

The 1st verse of Lead, Kindly Light was in my thoughts and mind and on my lips.  Especially the last sentence.

Lead, kindly Light, 

amid th'encircling gloom;

Lead thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home;

Lead thou me on!

Lead thou my feet;

I do not ask to see

The distant scene--one step enough for me.

When we got to the bottom of the pass and the sky had cleared to just a very light shower, I pulled beside the truck in passing and gave him a thumbs up and a wave.  He gave me a little honk.  I was teary with gratitude for his help.

My daily life is like that sometimes, when storms surround me, I have to shift my gaze to heaven and focus, with faith and trust on higher things, look to and follow that Kindly Light and not get caught up in the lows of mortality.