Driving All Night

Scripture: Mark 7:31-37

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Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, "Ephphatha," that is, "Be opened." And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. They were astounded beyond measure, saying, "He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak."

Reflection Questions:

Think of a time when you did not hear what someone else was saying to you.  What prevented you from listening and understanding? Where do you need to be opened by God so that you may interact in a new way with others?

Five-minute Story:

The plan was to drive from Anaheim to Monterey along the famous coastal highway 101.  When we reached the Big Sur area, we would pull into one of the national forests and camp for the night.  Based on experience, national forest campgrounds are never full. Besides, you couldn't make reservations for them.  First come, first served.

The drive along the coast was spectacular.  The waves, winding road, and green encased cliffs were enchanting.  Even the elephant seals that were piled up on the beach had a charm that transcended their blubbery mass.  We stopped a few times for pictures and to take in the salty air that blew in from the unending Pacific Ocean that touched the horizon.  With each stop and each slowly-traveled mile, the day was lengthening. Sunset. Golden waves. More stopping. More "wow's" were heard echoing throughout the camper.  It was only a few miles to get to the campground, and it was an experience meant to savor and take slow.

When we got to the first national forest campground, we saw an unexpected four-lettered word:  FULL. Really? These campgrounds never fill up. Well, they do. They may not in the middle of nowhere, but along the California coast, our national forest campgrounds see plenty of use.  After we passed three campgrounds with no success, I went to plan B - KOA (Kampgrounds of America.)

Given the lack of cell phone reception along the coastal highway, we couldn't call ahead to reserve a spot.  Again, we weren't too concerned because KOA's always have room and an after-hours check-in. After checking out the second KOA at 12:30 a.m. - seeing that dreadful word "FULL" again - we resigned to Plan C.  Plan C is overnight parking at Walmart.

Walmart has plenty of space and encourages RVers to use it.  Unless, of course, the local ordinance prohibits such use. Guess what... All four of the local Walmarts (each within a few minutes drive) did not allow for overnight parking (thank you unimaginative local ordinances!) The closest that did allow for parking was over an hour away!

Tired.  Exhausted.  A feeling of resignation washed over me.  The thought of driving sixty minutes longer seemed to defeat.  I needed to stop, but there was no place to rest. In the midst of this dilemma, I personalized the situation - nobody wants me!  Crazy right? Well, when you find yourself in a place with limited options, you start to lose touch with reality.

What I think now is that this experience was a significant opportunity.  It was an exercise in being flexible and open to 'come what may.' Life remains a little beyond my control.  To think that I can script every moment is a bit naive and uninformed. Campgrounds fill up. Local municipalities are afraid of transients camping out.  Even KOA's run out of space. Although these things will try our patience, energy, and sanity, I don't need to give in to an innate programming of "planning it all".  No matter how hard I try, I can not make life run smoothly and without a flaw. Perfection is a fool's paradise, elusive as a site in a national forest campground in peak season after sunset.