In the spring of 1991, I was 13 years old. The week before spring break, my Dad learned he had to take a business trip to Louisiana, which meant he would be gone the entire week I was out of school. This news threatened to put a damper on the fun of a great week ahead–until my Mom had an interesting idea.

“What if you went on the trip with him?”

The idea of tagging along with my Dad on his trip was a bit unusual. We never did that sort of thing. But the thought of an entire week on the road alone with my Dad was exciting. And though I have never asked him about it, I am sure that Dad was quite content to have some company on an otherwise boring business trip.

The following Monday morning, we loaded the trunk of my Dad’s maroon 1990 Chevy Lumina Special Edition and left our house in the Mississippi Delta for central and south Louisiana.

We drove for several days and visited small, backwater Louisiana towns, then came home. On paper, the trip didn’t sound particularly exciting. But that’s not how I remember it.

I remember that as I helped my Dad drive, he dubbed me “The Navigator.” I was in charge of reading the oversized road atlas that lead us through the twisting, Louisiana backroads. You may remember the 1980’s Disney movie by that name, which made my job seem extra cool. I remember that I heard a cajun accent for the first time, which I was able to imitate perfectly by the end of the week, much to my Dad’s amusement.

I remember I talked with my Dad as we drove, often about nothing particular, and he just listened. Then he talked and I listened. Then sometimes, we just sat in each other’s presence as we drove down the road, not saying anything. We just enjoyed the comfortable silence that can only come from being in close relationship.

One morning after a breakfast stop at a Burger King, we heard a parody on the radio about Barney Fife from “The Andy Griffith Show.” The song was set to Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire.” It was so hilarious that we laughed until we cried as we drove down the highway.

We ate things Mom wouldn’t have approved of. Dr. Pepper, beef jerky, and a bag of barbecue potato chips made for an ideal dinner, thank you very much. These were road rules. When we got tired, we slept at the closest Holiday Inn…but only if it had a decent swimming pool.

The best part is that we made memories together. Where we went didn’t really matter. It was all about hanging with my Dad on the journey, wherever it took us, until it was time to head home.

The Bigger Picture

Maybe you are struggling in your job or are unemployed and you have begged God for your circumstances to change. Perhaps your marriage is hanging on by a thread. Maybe you don’t understand why God hasn’t allowed you to have a child, and it seems unfair when other parents abuse and abandon the children they have. Maybe you are sick, are facing a difficult diagnosis, your parents are aging, or your kids are wayward–and you just want answers. You beg God, but the answer always seems to be “just wait.” Or maybe you feel like you don’t hear anything at all.

May I suggest something that I hope will encourage you?

What if this road trip of life is just about being with Him? What if it is just about joining Him wherever He is going, sitting next to Him wherever He takes you, and just enjoying His company as you join Him in whatever He is doing? What if it is not about getting answers? What if you never “get to” where you feel like you should be? And what if all of that is okay, as long as you love just being with Him and following Him wherever He takes you?

What if, no matter what happens in this upside-down, crazy, topsy-turvy life, you are able to enjoy His presence as long as the trip lasts? Then, when the trip is over, you can spend eternity with Him. And when one of your friends in Heaven asks you about your crazy, uphill-both-ways life on earth, you simply sum it up by saying, “I took a road trip with my Dad, and we had a blast together.”

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