Guest Blogger Diane Ablonczy
What to do when you struggle with serious hearing loss and your husband can’t get away for a family reunion? In one’s seventh decade of life, carpe diem must be the motto. So when all other options failed, I asked Jesus to be my travel companion, and set off with peace and anticipation.
Leaving the Austin airport in a shiny rental, headphones connected to the iPhone GPS lady’s infallible instructions, but also presented with a bewildering array of roadways, I took a “wrong” turn — and somehow ended up on the most direct route to Waco.
It was a lovely drive, the chief feature of which was mile upon mile of vibrant orange black-eyed Susans. Due to higher than average rainfall, Texas was having its best wildflower season in ten years. What a special beginning to the trip!
Of course, first among ‘Things To See in Waco,’ was a stop at Magnolia Market, designed by Chip and Jo Gaines of “Fixer Upper” fame. It’s not a large area, but I took my time to see everything. After much thought (and hardening of heart to my Keto conscience), I chose a carrot cupcake and lemon-cranberry scone from the bakery. I then perused the food truck offerings, and decided on a chilli cheese hot dog for lunch. Mom used to make these sometimes, and called them Coney Islands.
Not all the picnic tables were in shade, so soon a woman came and asked if she and her companion could sit with me It was immediately obvious they were sisters, both from appearance and the fact that they were peacefully ignoring each other, one on her iPhone, one chatting with me. They were from different States, and a visit to Magnolia Market was on both bucket lists, so there they were. I mentioned that next day I planned to visit the Homestead Heritage Village about ten miles north of Waco. It was a place they had never heard about, so they appreciated the tip.
Leaving Magnolia Market, I decided to take the free trolley to see downtown Waco. But there was no trolley when I got to the stop in front of the Market, only two golf cart type conveyances. The larger one already had one passenger, so I went over to the smaller, yellow one, and engaged the driver in conversation. His signs said, “Free,” and, “No Tip Expected.’ I asked how he made a living, then. He explained that passengers often did give him money, however much they might feel like. I climbed up front beside him so we could talk. His name was Zack.
I asked if this driving thing was all he did, or if he had another job. He answered it was all he did right now, but he had just completed college studying communications and would be moving to Atlanta in August. He had taken a position as youth pastor with a Baptist denomination, but the church is just called a community church.
Zack told me he had been an atheist. His father was an abusive alcoholic and died when Zack was only six. Zack couldn’t believe in a God who would allow him to suffer so much hurt and loss. But something made him start reading the Bible, and he became a follower of Jesus.
I recommended a book, “The Purple Pig and Other Miracles” by Dick Eastman. Eastman also became a youth pastor right out of college. The book recounts ways he encouraged teens he worked with, to make prayer a priority, and some of the unexpected results.
Zack had been an addict for many years, abusing both alcohol and drugs. But when he trusted Jesus for forgiveness and the power to live a holy life, he found himself free from any cravings. I shared my concern about someone close to me. Zach asked if he could pray for this individual. He then prayed a powerful, Spirit-filled petition. In turn, I prayed for Zack, asking Jesus to grant him an anointed, fruitful ministry in which many young people would become prayer warriors and help others find the new life Jesus offers.
This time with Zack was truly a Heaven-sent miracle of grace for us both. I now pray for Zack often.
Next day was the planned tour of the Homestead Heritage Village. The vision for this traditional craft Village is to build a sustainable life in a voluntary integrated community setting. Members of the community work together to provide their essential needs in an agrarian culture on 510 acres on the banks of the Brazos River. They have a working farm, grain mill, blacksmith shop, woodworking shop, and pottery house, among other things. Various members are also engaged in activities such as bee-keeping, cheese making, spinning and weaving, and basket making. The Village offers courses to teach these skills to others. A cafe onsite serves tasty and healthy food and baking, most of it prepared from Village produce.
As I browsed through a shop in the Village barn, a woman peered at me — I was without the large hat I’d worn the day before – and inquired, “Don’t I know you?” It was my friend from Magnolia Market. A bit later, we found ourselves in the Village yarn and thread shop at the same time, and enjoyed laughing over our repeated encounters.
Many Christian bookstores are closing now — too much competition from the internet and big box bookstores. This is very sad because, while it’s both convenient and usually less expensive to order online, it is not nearly as much fun. Browsing a store, reading dust jackets, flipping through a few pages in several books, and adding selected treasures to one’s basket is, in my view, the very definition of quality time. So It was my good fortune to spend a contented few hours wandering the aisles of a large Christian bookstore in Waco. Then the thought came — “Ron would NOT enjoy this.” Shortly afterward, I spotted a sign in the home decor section:
“Going Shopping With Your Husband Is Like Going Hunting With the Game Warden”
On my last day in Waco, I stopped for supper at a “coffee shop cafe” in a nearby small town. To their big sign outside was added in yellow, red, and green letters: “Thank you Jesus for your grace.” The hostess desk was fronted by a huge black and white quote of Revelation 3:20:
“Behold I stand at the door and knock…”
It made my heart smile to see this bold Texas way of honouring Jesus.
I had purchased some award-winning cheese in the Village as a gift for the cousin who would be hosting our family reunion. But how to keep it cool on the long drive to Shreveport? When I reached my VRBO at end of day before my departure, I found an insulated foil bag on the doorstep containing a frozen peach cobbler and paper cups of local hand-churned ice cream. Although I heroically passed on the treats, (you should not be unduly impressed; I confess to falling from grace several other times along the journey!), the bag, filled with ice, would be a perfect transport for the cheese. My host graciously gifted me the bag which, she said, was purchased for $1 at Walmart. I was a happy camper, and my gift of cheese arrived cool and well preserved.
I made it to Shreveport in good time and was following my phone GPS to the hotel when — WHAM —my car swiped alongside another that appeared seemingly out of nowhere! In an instant, careful plans turned to upset, stress, and delay. However, Jesus gave calm and grace despite this mishap. The other driver was also calm, and pleasant. Neither of us suffered any physical harm whatsoever. A couple of young men stopped immediately to make sure we were all right and that we got safely off the highway. Ron was available to “hear” for me on the long call with the rental company to give them a full report.
A police report was taken, the rental was towed, I was driven to pick up a replacement — finally, all was sorted out. It was quite surprising how shaken up I was by it all. Generally, my reaction to events is pretty low key. But Jesus helped me give praise and thanks for physical safety for all involved, and for His comfort and care in every circumstance. He truly was my friend on that hot afternoon far from home.
Ron insisted I carry on driving as planned — get right back on the horse and ride, as we say out here in the west. It was with a not entirely quiet mind that I made my way to the destination, but I got there.
Often I’ve passed by banged-up vehicles, seeing people standing around looking upset or talking urgently on their phones. Even worse, sometimes ambulances and fire trucks have been on the scene. The Shreveport mishap has made me view these incidents as much more than something of fleeting interest. It provided fresh insight into the distress of those involved. I also realize and appreciate in a new way, that most of us carry anxieties and emotional wounds every day, but nevertheless somehow find the courage to press forward in life.
Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
Louis L’Amour is one of my very favourite authors. Because his books are mostly set in the west, I decided they would be perfect to relax with in the evenings. L’Amour’s descriptions of the countryside where his stories take place are very authentic, so I hoped to find one that would help me learn more about Texas.
The lady who owns the VRBO where I stayed in Waco had told me she has a booth in a particular antique mall, so I promised to visit it. This “mall” turned out to be a large warehouse-like structure on the highway, where a multitude of people rent quite small spaces all arranged together in the building and overseen by one or two people at the front desk. Each booth features “old stuff” — as I view it — organized to catch the eye of customers browsing along the aisles. My object was to find some L’Amour books, and I was nearly at the last of the dozens of booths when I finally and happily spotted some. Since I have many, many L’Amour books at home, I had to guess at which ones might not already be in my library. I chose five, at two dollars apiece. When I randomly picked one to read that evening — it was set in Texas! A few days later, I had time to enjoy a second, again randomly chosen. It also turned out to be set inTexas. Really, what are the odds?
Because of the accident, I was somewhat spooked about driving. But my sister’s son had unexpectedly decided to attend the reunion, and there was lots of room for me in their rented SUV. So for much of the time, I was chauffeured about in relaxed enjoyment. Nephews are a great invention!
Back in Austin, finding my hotel and other destinations was white-knuckle stress. The trauma of the Shreveport accident had not dissipated. However, I persevered. and navigated the remaining two days of the trip, incident free. It won’t be long before my normal dare-devil driving attitude reasserts itself.
On the final evening, there was a choice: read another good book in the hotel room, or venture forth for wholly unnecessary food. Hmmm. One can always read, but a wrap-up Austin experience would never come my way again. So after some research on TripAdvisor and a few missed turns, I made my way to Terry Black’s BBQ. This proved to be a unique and delicious dining adventure, adding to my store of happy memories of the trip.
“Thank you, Jesus, for being my Companion, Protector, and Guide. It was great to travel with You!”
I still missed Ron.