Moving Day

My husband and I set out to head toward Arizona from California just after 8:00 am. We’ve lived at our home for over thirty-three years and it was moving day, you can read more about why from a previous post: When God Moves But You Don’t Want To. But for this article I’d like to share our rocky ride to Arizona with turns and stops we didn’t anticipate, which includes me screaming at my husband. I’m not proud of it, but it happened, so I’ll include it.

I knew we had a long drive ahead of us so I packed lunch from my favorite Greek spot with a falafel wrap for breakfast I could eat on the road while I drove. In the morning I drove through Starbucks and got us coffee. The guy ahead of me paid for my order. It’s gonna be a good day I thought.

What a great start.

Mike was pulling our fifth-wheel travel trailer with his truck and I was driving behind him. As we pulled out my heart hurt so bad I thought I might be having a heart attack, but realized it was my broken heart—leaving my home which I loved, as well as my grandkids was a hurt I feared would never leave. I munched on my falafel wrap and wondered why I wasn’t crying. Then a tear dripped down my cheek. I took another bite of my wrap. Tear. Bite. Tear. Bite. With my hands holding the steering wheel and my breakfast I became painfully aware I was sucking down my feelings with my falafel wrap. I put the wrap aside and a flood of tears rushed down my face as I gasped for breaths.

Would I ever be happy again?

The pain in my chest continued for hours into our drive. Breathe, I’d tell myself, Breathe. 

I was having trouble staying behind my husband between the tears and the lane changes he was making. My kids and son-in-law had often complained about how hard it was to follow Dad, and now I understood why.

The first few hours seemed to go by like a flash and we entered into a cell dead zone in the middle of nowhere. That’s when my husband pulled over to the side of the two-lane highway. I couldn’t call him because I had no cell reception. I couldn’t get out of the car because other cars were whizzing by very fast. I waited. And waited. Finally, I got out of the car when there was a break in traffic.

Hey babe, what’s going on? I asked my husband.

The truck broke down and he wasn’t sure why. He was fiddling around with different—actually I don’t know exactly what he was doing but he was under the truck and all around trying to figure out what was wrong.

I’m going to call AAA, he said. He went to use his phone but had no reception. So, he climbed up the side of the mountain to get cell reception. I followed him. I was extremely glad I had worn my Texas boots that day. (Texas Boots: boots I bought for the cold winters in Texas while visiting my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson there.) In my Texas boots I made my way to the top of the side of the mountain. It was beautiful, and a little scary because I feared tumbling. “In her Texas boots she came tumbling down…”  

As my husband called AAA I looked around at the breath taking view. We waited for AAA and hung out stealing kisses and hugs. After about two hours I was hungry and climbed down the hill to get my cooler with my lunch in it. Cooler in hand I made it back up. Happy to have my Greek feast I took in the beauty around me as I ate.

Mike said, Wait! I just thought of something. He climbed down the hill, did more fiddling around, and the truck started! 

I’m still at the top of the hill eating my lunch and I screamed, Go! Go! Go! I’ll catch up. I hurriedly packed my lunch up and ran down the hill almost tumbling—again, so glad I had on my Texas boots! As I got to the bottom, running to our car, my husband pulled out and I almost went down as the trailer pulled out. Climbing over the passenger seat I crawled in and started the car.

At this point it was roughly 2:30 pm and we were glad to be moving again. Very glad.

We stopped for coffee and gas. The two-lane highway became very dark as the sun set and it was hard for me to navigate and keep up with my husband even though he was pulling a trailer. Now, the fact that he was driving a truck pulling a trailer and I couldn’t stick with him probably says more about my driving than his–I’ll leave that for you to decide. Anyway I lost him on the dark Arizona road. He changed lanes, I couldn’t, and off he went.

I called him. He answered. I screamed, STOP CHANGING LANES! I CAN’T SEE! And there may have been an off-colored word in there but I’m a pastor’s wife, so I don’t talk like that. But, there was, and if you tell anyone I’ll lie and say that you’re lying because like I said, I don’t talk like that. He told me which offramp he’d be getting off and said he’d wait for me after he exited.

I called my daughter and son-in-law to complain about how hard it was to follow my husband. They laughed. And as we talked, up in the distance I saw Mike exiting the freeway. I hollered, WHERE’S HE GOING? And there may have been a few more off-colored words but I’m not admitting anything more, I’ve incriminated myself enough. I hung up with my daughter, and called Mike.

He said he took the exit so I could catch up with him. Good move on his part. And now I felt bad and apologized for yelling at him.

My mouth was back on track and I had hoped our trip was too. But, no.

We got back on the freeway and just five miles from our campground the truck shut down. My husband was able to pull to the side of an offramp. Again, cars were whizzing by us.

It was 8:40 pm and we were stuck there until 1:30 am–when we finally got a tow. It was grueling trying to find a tow company who could tow a truck and a travel trailer, we made call after call as our muscles shook from the cold. Finally, help was on the way and God opened the Red Sea via two cigarette smoking tow truck drivers. They were two of the nicest guys you could ever meet, and I think the smell of cigarette smoke will forever bring me comfort. These two guys were our leaders to the promised land.

We dropped the truck and trailer at a mechanic shop and hung out with our rescue friends talking for a while. They were wide awake, Mike and I could hardly think we were so exhausted.

As we said goodbye and got in our car it was about 2:00 am. We drove to the nearest hotel—it was full.

Are you kidding me? Later we found out there was a baseball tournament in the area for the weekend. Calling around we found a hotel that had an open room.

By 2:30 am we were finally in a warm bed.

Waking up in a warm bed, next to my beloved, a hot shower, breakfast, and a cup of coffee will never be taken for granted by me again.

Add a whole lot of Jesus and I’m good to go. On that note, the mechanic who fixed our truck said we should’ve never made it from California to Arizona with a broken fuel pump and a busted carburetor, but somehow we did. The carburetor had to be rebuilt, the fuel pump and radiator had to be replaced. In addition, the fuel tanks were not switching between the two.

BUT SOMEHOW WE MADE IT.

We know this move to Arizona was led by God but just because we are following God’s leading doesn’t mean it will always be easy—in fact, sometimes it’s really hard and painful and heartbreaking. Saturday night I questioned if joy would ever return, but by Sunday morning while at our new church I could hear God whisper, You’re home.

Lucille Williams is an author with a message of love and kindness. Order a copy of “The Intimacy You Crave” or “From Me to We.” Get weekly updates and SUBSCRIBE to LuSays today.