Road Trip

"And Abraham went out, not knowing where he was going." Genesis 12:4

Every time I read this Scripture, or hear it preached on, I wonder if maybe a female writer sneaked in among those who chronicled the events in the Old Testament.

What if the story of Abraham were taking place today? I can just picture his wife Sarah--a prolific blogger who would take advantage of every free wi-fi spot along their journey--opening a blog entry with that same tongue-in-cheek line.

Because you see, when I read that line I automatically substitute my husband's name for Abraham's, just to put myself in poor Sarah's shoes. Or sandals. Whatever.

"And Doug went out, not knowing where he was going."

Doesn't exactly have that mystical, ethereal feel to any more, does it? There's a bit of a thud in the word "Doug," especially, I've noticed, when you say it out loud in a sentence that ends with "not knowing where he was going."

I'm married to a man who, when we get to the end of our 700-foot-long driveway and he's presented with the choice of whether to turn to the left or the right, often makes no choice whatsoever. Don't get me wrong. He doesn't sit there flumoxed, trying to decide between left (church) or right (Starbucks). He intends to end up at church, but he turns right anyway.

This past Sunday, I let him drive the wrong way for nearly a mile before I said something. I wanted to see how long it might take him to self-correct, how long it might take before his internal GPS kicked back in. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Church."

"Why did you turn this direction?"

"Well, I thought I'd go a different route today."

"Oh, really? And which route might that be?"

There's only one other way to approach our church, if one doesn't pursue the correct and logical path, which requires turning left out of our driveway. We both know this, but the man is attempting to pretend that he made a conscious choice to turn right, which he did NOT.

"I think I'll take The Ricketty Bridge."

When you live in the boonies, you attach your own names to landmarks that remain unnamed in the general vernacular because these landmarks are so...horrible. If Cass County, Missouri, road crews were honest, they'd put huge warning signs on any road that might lead an unsuspecting driver to attempt to cross the frightening wooden-planked wobbly one-laned contraption that our family has nicknamed The Ricketty Bridge.

"Warning!! Extremely hazardous Ricketty Bridge ahead!! Turn back while you still can!!"

But they are not honest. And neither, sometimes, is Doug.

"You didn't plan to take The Ricketty Bridge," I say, "and you wouldn't plan to take it on purpose, because you know how much I hate it."

He says nothing, but I notice his foot moves to the brake pedal to begin slowing down for what will soon become a radical change of direction.

"I'll turn back the other way," he says. As we make our way down the right path, he adds, "You know what? Now that I think about it, I'll bet the roadblocks are up at The Ricketty Bridge. I'll bet the flood waters washed it out last night."

Sometimes, what we try to pass off as faith is simple misguidedness and--of course--what looks to others like misguidedness might indeed be genuine faith. It's not always easy to tell which force is operating until you travel a ways. Or until your spouse speaks up.

I know one thing: faith is not the same thing as automatic pilot, which is the direction-determining device I find myself using most often.

So I won't hold it against Abraham--or Doug--for going out, and not knowing where he was going. As long as a fellow keeps stopping to ask for directions, and stays honest with his wife, a few wrong turns in life won't mess him up too badly, I guess.

But I still like to think Sarah came up with that opening line. "And Abraham went out, not knowing where he was going."

Yeah. She would have made some blogger.

Posted by Katy on 06/07/05 at 08:16 AM

Fallible Comments...

I love it, Katy! Heh heh. I dated a guy who couldn't ever admit to a driving mistake. Once he turned on a wrong street, and when I asked why, he said, "Oh, there's a house on this street I wanted to drive by and see . . ."

Right. Like college males like nothing more than to drive by and admire the nondescript houses in an aging, middle-class neighborhood.

One of the big ways George impressed me was the first time he visited Dallas (my city of origin), and he asked me for directions all day. Yeah, I know it's common sense to ask the person who lived in that city for 18 years, but I'm pretty sure the former boyfriend would have driven all over the city "house-looking" before he would have asked my assistance.

Anyway, I loved reading this. I will always grin now when I hear or read, "Abraham went out not knowing where he was going." :)

Thanks for the chuckle.
-----
Posted by Jeanne Damoff on 06/07/05 at 04:51 PM
One year we decorated the sanctuary for Father's day with 'manstuff' -- tools dangling form big orange power cords attached to the walls. It looked pretty neat. But we also had two maps of Michigan side by side on the back wall with huge block letters that said, "Don't Worry, Honey..." and "I Know Exactly Where We Are." The pastor said it was a little unnerving to see them from where he stood trying to preach. But he got a laugh out of it.
Posted by Paula on 06/07/05 at 06:48 PM
Katy,
Totally off-topic, but since I know you are a fellow Irish-person, I was wondering if you have read "Ireland: A Novel" by Frank Delaney yet? I just finished it last week and I still can't stop thinking and raving about it! You should definitely read this one.
Posted by Carrie K. on 06/07/05 at 09:34 PM
Jeanne--Now, see? I would have been SO impressed by George, also. Doug has no problem admitting he's lost in other ways--just when he truly, physically lost. Or misguided. Or misdirected. But he's nearly perfect in every other way! Sorry if I tainted the Holy Scripture for you... ;)

Paula--Hilarious! "I know exactly where we are..." I can see how that would unnerve your poor pastor!

Carrie K--I saw your reference on your blog to the Irish novel, and immediately added it to my Amazon wish list (which is just a page in my journal). You made it sound too darned good to resist, and I'm taking you up on it! Thanks.
Posted by Katy on 06/07/05 at 11:41 PM
when we were in my hometown last month, chad insisted on driving..to learn his way around. i agreed, but don't think i wasn't gritting my teeth at the amazing amount of u-turns and exclamations -"don't tell me..i think I remember this road"!
Posted by lisa on 06/12/05 at 04:29 PM
And all this time I thought I had my wife fooled whenever I went the wrong direction. I should have known better....thanks for the great post!
Posted by Daddypundit on 06/14/05 at 03:56 PM
Lisa--Chad sounds a bit like Doug. I get dizzy just thinking about it!

Daddypundit--It's hard to fool a good woman. :) Thanks for checking in here!
Posted by Katy on 06/15/05 at 02:50 AM
lol...My husband's name is Doug also and I can relate.
Posted by ambiance on 06/18/05 at 07:46 AM

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Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	Road Trip "And Abraham went out, not knowing where he was going." Genesis 12:4 Every time I read this Scripture, or hear it preached on, I wonder if maybe a female writer sneaked in among those who chronicled the events in the Old Testament. What if the story of Abraham were taking place today? I can just picture his wife Sarah--a prolific blogger who would take advantage of every free wi-fi spot along their journey--opening a blog entry with that same tongue-in-cheek line. Because you see, when I read that line I automatically substitute my husband's name for Abraham's, just to put myself in poor Sarah's shoes. Or sandals. Whatever. "And Doug went out, not knowing where he was going." Doesn't exactly have that mystical, ethereal feel to any more, does it? There's a bit of a thud in the word "Doug," especially, I've noticed, when you say it out loud in a sentence that ends with "not knowing where he was going." I'm married to a man who, when we get to the end of our 700-foot-long driveway and he's presented with the choice of whether to turn to the left or the right, often makes no choice whatsoever. Don't get me wrong. He doesn't sit there flumoxed, trying to decide between left (church) or right (Starbucks). He intends to end up at church, but he turns right anyway. This past Sunday, I let him drive the wrong way for nearly a mile before I said something. I wanted to see how long it might take him to self-correct, how long it might take before his internal GPS kicked back in. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Where are you going?" I asked. "Church." "Why did you turn this direction?" "Well, I thought I'd go a different route today." "Oh, really? And which route might that be?" There's only one other way to approach our church, if one doesn't pursue the correct and logical path, which requires turning left out of our driveway. We both know this, but the man is attempting to pretend that he made a conscious choice to turn right, which he did NOT. "I think I'll take The Ricketty Bridge." When you live in the boonies, you attach your own names to landmarks that remain unnamed in the general vernacular because these landmarks are so...horrible. If Cass County, Missouri, road crews were honest, they'd put huge warning signs on any road that might lead an unsuspecting driver to attempt to cross the frightening wooden-planked wobbly one-laned contraption that our family has nicknamed The Ricketty Bridge. "Warning!! Extremely hazardous Ricketty Bridge ahead!! Turn back while you still can!!" But they are not honest. And neither, sometimes, is Doug. "You didn't plan to take The Ricketty Bridge," I say, "and you wouldn't plan to take it on purpose, because you know how much I hate it." He says nothing, but I notice his foot moves to the brake pedal to begin slowing down for what will soon become a radical change of direction. "I'll turn back the other way," he says. As we make our way down the right path, he adds, "You know what? Now that I think about it, I'll bet the roadblocks are up at The Ricketty Bridge. I'll bet the flood waters washed it out last night." Sometimes, what we try to pass off as faith is simple misguidedness and--of course--what looks to others like misguidedness might indeed be genuine faith. It's not always easy to tell which force is operating until you travel a ways. Or until your spouse speaks up. I know one thing: faith is not the same thing as automatic pilot, which is the direction-determining device I find myself using most often. So I won't hold it against Abraham--or Doug--for going out, and not knowing where he was going. As long as a fellow keeps stopping to ask for directions, and stays honest with his wife, a few wrong turns in life won't mess him up too badly, I guess. But I still like to think Sarah came up with that opening line. "And Abraham went out, not knowing where he was going." Yeah. She would have made some blogger. Posted by Katy on 06/07/05 at 08:16 AM Fallible Comments... I love it, Katy! Heh heh. I dated a guy who couldn't ever admit to a driving mistake. Once he turned on a wrong street, and when I asked why, he said, "Oh, there's a house on this street I wanted to drive by and see . . ." Right. Like college males like nothing more than to drive by and admire the nondescript houses in an aging, middle-class neighborhood. One of the big ways George impressed me was the first time he visited Dallas (my city of origin), and he asked me for directions all day. Yeah, I know it's common sense to ask the person who lived in that city for 18 years, but I'm pretty sure the former boyfriend would have driven all over the city "house-looking" before he would have asked my assistance. Anyway, I loved reading this. I will always grin now when I hear or read, "Abraham went out not knowing where he was going." :) Thanks for the chuckle. ----- Posted by Jeanne Damoff on 06/07/05 at 04:51 PM One year we decorated the sanctuary for Father's day with 'manstuff' -- tools dangling form big orange power cords attached to the walls. It looked pretty neat. But we also had two maps of Michigan side by side on the back wall with huge block letters that said, "Don't Worry, Honey..." and "I Know Exactly Where We Are." The pastor said it was a little unnerving to see them from where he stood trying to preach. But he got a laugh out of it. Posted by Paula on 06/07/05 at 06:48 PM Katy, Totally off-topic, but since I know you are a fellow Irish-person, I was wondering if you have read "Ireland: A Novel" by Frank Delaney yet? I just finished it last week and I still can't stop thinking and raving about it! You should definitely read this one. Posted by Carrie K. on 06/07/05 at 09:34 PM Jeanne--Now, see? I would have been SO impressed by George, also. Doug has no problem admitting he's lost in other ways--just when he truly, physically lost. Or misguided. Or misdirected. But he's nearly perfect in every other way! Sorry if I tainted the Holy Scripture for you... ;) Paula--Hilarious! "I know exactly where we are..." I can see how that would unnerve your poor pastor! Carrie K--I saw your reference on your blog to the Irish novel, and immediately added it to my Amazon wish list (which is just a page in my journal). You made it sound too darned good to resist, and I'm taking you up on it! Thanks. Posted by Katy on 06/07/05 at 11:41 PM when we were in my hometown last month, chad insisted on driving..to learn his way around. i agreed, but don't think i wasn't gritting my teeth at the amazing amount of u-turns and exclamations -"don't tell me..i think I remember this road"! Posted by lisa on 06/12/05 at 04:29 PM And all this time I thought I had my wife fooled whenever I went the wrong direction. I should have known better....thanks for the great post! Posted by Daddypundit on 06/14/05 at 03:56 PM Lisa--Chad sounds a bit like Doug. I get dizzy just thinking about it! Daddypundit--It's hard to fool a good woman. :) Thanks for checking in here! Posted by Katy on 06/15/05 at 02:50 AM lol...My husband's name is Doug also and I can relate. Posted by ambiance on 06/18/05 at 07:46 AM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: Vanished Previous entry: Freak Out! << Back to main


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Personal blog of christianwriter & fallible momKaty McKenna Raymondin Kansas City, Missouri

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Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri