Yes, we were stranded in a hotel in a snowstorm - but God never once
left me stranded.
I packed for a 3-night, 4-day stay in Richmond (VA), where
the boys were slated to fence in the Junior Olympics. (Yes! The Junior OLYMPICS!!) National fencing
competitions are intense, exhausting, marathon events for fencers and families
alike. As much as I love the boys’ skill and passion, I’m always ready to head
home at the end.
Except, this time,
there was a snowstorm coming when we were ready to leave. And it was 15 degrees
outside (not ideal for our diesel vehicle). And the car would not turn over. We
were stuck. Six hours from home. In a snowstorm. Without our car.
(How do you spell
panic?)
Since returning home (yay! I may never leave again), I’ve contemplated
our “extended stay” and what God showed me and taught me, during a time which I
was honestly in no mood to learn anything
from anyone. Still, His smile never faltered, even when mine was nowhere to
be found.
Seven lessons I learned:
1. Always pack
Febreeze. A full bottle. It was of great solace to me in our hotel room,
which I shared with a husband and two teen-aged sons. And all their fencing
equipment. And socks.
2. Bring more books
than I think I’ll read. Twice as many. No, three times. Without an absorbing book, I morph into a caged animal,
snarling and restless. Our visit to Barnes & Noble was a healing time for
me (save for the incident in Starbuck’s– refer
to #3): just rubbing shoulders with all those new books, poring over
countless dust jackets, jotting down new titles for future reading (although
hopefully not during an unexpected
extended stay in a small hotel room in a bad storm).
3. When in Starbuck’s,
do not close my eyes for too long. Otherwise, the barista may startle me by
tapping me on the shoulder, announcing emphatically, “Ma’am, you cannot sleep
here.” My protestations that I am only closing my eyes to quell an oncoming headache
may not convince her, as she continues to believe that I am an indigent who has
wandered in off the subzero streets. “Ma’am, you need to leave,” I may hear. This
really happened to me. As Dave Barry says: I am not making this up. When I told
Frank why we had to leave quickly, he looked me up and down, then remarked:
“Well, we may be homeless right now.
But you don’t look homeless.” (Smooth
talker.)
4. I am actually addicted
to Zumba. Mentally, physically, emotionally. It was one of the things I
missed the most (after my bed, my books, and my routine). Enough to heed my
facebook friend’s advice to dance to Spanish music videos on the tiny strip of
exposed carpeting between the two queen-sized beds in our hotel room. Cramped
my style, but it was better than nothing, and I only stubbed my toe on the bed
frame once.
5. After 24 years of
marriage, my husband can still be a white knight. I had expected
grouchiness over the mounting stack of bills: extra hotel nights, towing and
garage expenses, rental car, more eating out, lost work days. Instead, he
promptly declared it an adventure and let the boys push the dead vehicle down
three flights of the parking garage, where the tow truck awaited. He treated us
twice to the nearby diner we had discovered (instead of cheaping it at KFC/Taco
Bell) and was extra-patient with me while I moped in my pit. He and the boys gave
me time alone to Zumba in our room, didn’t criticize me for my mood, didn’t push for the cheaper (and riskier) plan for
getting us home sooner. He even bowed gallantly to my plea to hang out at the
nearby Barnes and Noble for hours on end (mind you – after 15 minutes in the
magazine section, he’s done). In the face of my black mood, his white-knight
nature gleamed brightly.
6. I can tire of Food
Network. This surprised me because – not having cable, satellite, or any
other paid TV service – I only get to watch it when I travel! But if I never
see another episode of Diners, Drive-ins
and Dives, it will be too soon. I mean, does Guy Fieri even cook?! Or does he just inhale everyone
else’s menu items, so viewers can hear him say “Mmmmm!” and watch sauce drip
down his spiky beard? I have no patience for perky Giada or those sickly-sweet
cupcake wars. Even our favorite show, Chopped,
tasted like stale leftovers after three back-to-back episodes. (Refer back to #2.)
7. My pillow is worth
its weight in gold. Even though it consumes valuable space in our small
hatchback, already stuffed with fencing bags, camping mattresses, school books
and other Smid essentials. But that pillow is a travelling chiropractor for my creaky
neck, a healing slice of heaven in a hotel room. I’m soooo glad I didn’t leave home without it.
Finally, one priceless lesson I continue to learn:
Even when it’s tough
for me to smile, I can see and appreciate God’s smile. I’m so proud and
happy that my sons are involved with this great martial art, but fencing competitions
are stressful for me. I have to pace myself: listen to my iPod (to drown out
the piercing noise), pray and take deep breaths, and know when it’s time to
take a break before heading back into the venue. Standing on concrete or
sitting in folding chairs for 9-10 hours a day, manning the camera, does no
favors for my neck and shoulders. (Refer
to #7.) So when the car didn’t start on Day 4, as we were primed to outrun
the snowstorm all the way to South Carolina, I felt my last bit of well-being slipping
away.
I knew that God
was providing for us and protecting us: two of the things He steadily and
faithfully does for His children every single day. I could see it! Still, I felt
like I was going to lose it at any moment: I was tense, panicky,
claustrophobic, exhausted.
Even in the midst of the emotional and physical stress, however,
I saw God’s smile everywhere. The same kind of smile you have when you give something to your children that you know
will make them smile – and so you smile, too. He gives good gifts to
His children, and He delights to do so.
We were able to book the same hotel, and it never lost power
in the storm. Our rental car proved reliable on the snowy streets. With every
restaurant closed for the storm, we found rotisserie chicken and hummus and
pita (my favorite!) for dinner at Wal-Mart (do Wal-Marts ever close?). No-one broke into our broken-down car as we waited
overnight for a tow. We found a diner with a great menu and waitstaff – one of
whom even paid for my hot fudge sundae (when she saw my sons’ long arms reaching
for it against my protests!). Discounts and mercy at the hotel and garage made
the bills a hair less staggering. Having every meal together was a gift: our
routine is so busy that we only have dinners together 2-3 nights a week right
now. Even though the garage received the replacement part later than expected,
they still were able to complete the repair in time for us to avoid one more
night’s stay in Richmond. The boys’ homeschool co-op was cancelled, so they
didn’t have to miss yet another day’s classes. The roads on the drive home (and
– yes – I was still anxious about the
car failing again in the frigid temps, or black ice on the roads) were dry; the
only ice we encountered was on our driveway, which we had anticipated. We
hauled our luggage up the iced-over driveway at 1 am in 10-degree weather,
without falling or encountering scary creatures (coyotes, wolves, and possums, oh my!).
Swirling emotions and physical tension notwithstanding, I
saw the goodness and faithfulness of God in Richmond. I can hold fast to His
truth and promises, to the reality of how good and present He is, even when my
feelings are not lining up with the facts. Yes, we were stranded in a hotel in
a snowstorm - but God never once left me stranded. He is utterly trustworthy –
even when my emotions are anything but.
(Disclaimers: I intend no disrespect toward Guy Fieri, Giada or Food Network. Nor toward indigents looking for a place of rest in subzero temperatures; in fact, if I'd been in a different frame of mind, I may have thought to ask the barista what was available in that area for homeless people wanting to escape the frigid storm.)
