Road trip blessings: navigating the darkness home

Well, I’ve finally made it home from vacation. After the weekend in Grand Junction, we were thankful to have some downtime before heading back home. Although our itinerary was shortened due to exhaustion, we still managed to squeeze in a few more family dinners, game nights, and a trip to the Colorado River. Shout out to my friends back home, who showed us Hues and Cues; I highly recommend playing it.

Finally, the time had come for my husband, my nephew, and me to head back to Warner Robins.

We had quite a trip ahead of us — 26 hours of driving, to be exact — and only two days to do it. No big deal, I thought, 13 hours a day isn’t too crazy. We’d leave early in the morning and be on our way. 

An unexpected nap derailed our plans. I WAS awake at 7 a.m., ready to go. I woke my husband up to say goodbye to my mom, and then I fell asleep (not by choice, my bed was just too comfortable. I slept well while on vacation, and I miss it now.)

Initially, planning to leave at 7 a.m. was a non-starter, and we left at noon instead.

Our first stop back was in Topeka, Kansas, which Google Maps said was supposed to be an 11-hour drive. Unfortunately, traffic in the Rocky Mountains severely lengthened the endeavor.

A crash around the Eisenhower Tunnel added an hour to our drive. The additional traffic around the airport in Denver gave us another hour. Food and gas stops, along with the shift from mountain to central time, added more time.

My husband had warned me about tunnel vision, especially at night. He was right. After about eight hours of staring at dark, empty roads, I had no idea what was real anymore, and my sleeping husband and nephew kept me alone with my thoughts. 

Fueled by energy drinks, Tokyo Machine on repeat, and desperation, all I could think was, “We’ll get there eventually, just keep going.”

We finally reached Topeka around 3 a.m., zombified and hungry as we checked into our hotel.

“Good evening… checking in… three adults… food?” I mumbled.

“Nothing open nearby, unfortunately, but we do have complimentary breakfast bags in the morning,” the clerk said, sounding like she had heard this before. “Here’s your keys, don’t worry about the deposit.”

Once we reached the hotel room, I passed out immediately. With sleep for dinner and a missed window for breakfast, we left around 10 a.m., all of us ravenous.

“I’m tired of gas station food,” my husband said. “Let’s hit up a drive-thru.”

The closest was McDonald’s, and I broke my vow never to eat there again. I’ll admit, their McGriddles taste delicious, though. I got that and a bagel sandwich.

About 30 miles down the road, my husband, now driving the second leg of the trip, said, “I’m still hungry.” I reached into the bag to grab him a hashbrown and felt something much larger at the bottom. It was another bagel sandwich. I specifically remember ordering one, but I guess we got two—a delightful surprise for my hungry husband, and a moment of unexpected joy for all of us.

Along the way, seeing the arch up close in St. Louis was a cool experience. Illinois was nothing but construction, which added to the length of our trip. Kentucky was boring, but in Tennessee, we were stoked about stopping at Whataburger in Nashville. 

Whataburger is by far my favorite fast food place, so when my husband and nephew said they wanted burgers for dinner, that was my first suggestion.

My husband ordered a combo meal and a milkshake, while I only bought a patty melt. At this point, my fear of missing out had kicked in, and I said to myself, “I wish I had ordered a shake.”

About 10 minutes later, the cashier set a bag and a cup down on the counter, which I assumed was my husband’s milkshake. I grabbed the food quickly and made my way to the car.

In the car, I had put the shake down on my side and saw my husband drinking what I thought was his other drink. It was another milkshake; we got two by accident, a blessing for me, who had forgotten to order a drink. 

We drove through Atlanta at about 1:30 a.m., and seeing the city lit up was a sight to behold. Finally, the sandman got hold of me, and I woke up about to exit the highway onto Watson Boulevard. Thank God my husband was driving. 

Traffic wasn’t too crazy, a shocker during Fourth of July, but the shift from central to eastern time meant we didn’t get to Warner Robins until about 3 a.m. 

The trip back to Warner Robins had a very different tone than the trip up to Grand Junction. Driving up was exciting, adventurous, and exploratory, but the drive back felt like something we had to endure, a means to an end.

Sometimes life feels that way. We have seasons of adventure and mountain peaks. Other times, we’re surrounded by darkness, just driving through, hoping to make it safely to our next stop.

What kept us going were the moments of beauty and the blessings that came our way. As the passenger, I snapped photos of the little things that made the journey bearable: firework displays, the sunset hitting the Nashville skyline, a sunflower in Kansas, the city lights of Atlanta. The waived hotel deposit, as well as the extra sandwich and milkshake, helped too.

It reminds me of Psalm 121:8. “The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” I firmly believe that He gives us what we need to get through difficult moments, just as He provided the Israelites with manna and quail in the wilderness. It may not always look like the answer we expect (I wasn’t specifically praying for a second sandwich or milkshake), but it’s often precisely what we need.

As we settled back into our routine in Warner Robins, I vowed to remember these moments of unexpected joy. And if you’re currently surrounded by darkness in the journey of life, don’t overlook the little blessings along the way.