I texted my son, Joshua, and daughter-in-law, Abby, to let them know we were on our way. Joshua called right away. He said that Abby’s grandma who left an hour before us, was stuck on the exit ramp. Apparently, there was a big air show that weekend, and traffic was crazy.
There are really only two possible routes to my son’s apartment. I asked if we should take the alternate route, but he told me he was actually stuck in traffic on that end of town as well. His GPS estimated that it would take him 29 minutes to travel just 1.6 miles to his apartment.
An hour later, we reached our exit. Traffic on the long ramp was backed up all the way back to the interstate. The vehicles on the highway at the end of the ramp were at a standstill.
I jokingly texted Joshua and Abby, “Please tell me that Debbie made it to your apartment.” I was shocked and a bit panicked when they replied that she hadn’t. She was still stuck in traffic.
I was doomed. The apartment was less than two miles away from the exit ramp, but Debbie still hadn’t reached it after an hour. Why had I drunk so much coffee, and why didn’t I ask to stop to use the bathroom before nearing Terre Haute?!
After about 10 minutes of sitting in the same spot, a vehicle from behind passed by us and drove off-road to get back onto the interstate. Others followed shortly after. I suggested to my husband, Sam, that we should do the same, but he replied that it was illegal and dangerous. I knew he was right, but I was desperate.
While waiting, we could see the planes in the distance. Sam was impressed with the loop de loops. The only thing that would impress me at that moment was if my reference point, the big blue and white RV on the highway, would move. I watched it for at least 20 minutes before it even moved a foot.
I have been in a lot of traffic jams, but never have I been stuck in this bad of a mess. After about a half an hour, we made it to the highway below where traffic continued to move slower than a snail’s pace.
At this point, we both needed to use the restroom. We were finally passing restaurants and gas stations, but we didn’t pull off the highway for fear of not being able to get back on.
Meanwhile, the planes flew in close and swooped down over our van at times. Sam was delighted about the “FREE SHOW,” but I was getting pretty cranky about being stuck on the road.
Every so often, he would get so excited that he would slap my arm. “Did you see that?! That was an F-22!” he exclaimed. He was a very happy camper despite being stuck in traffic with a full bladder.
My focus was on not on the brilliant air show; my focus was on not wetting my pants. Every sudden outburst from my overly enthusiastic husband did nothing for me but break my focus. I was not amused.
An hour and a half after exiting the interstate, we finally traveled those last 2 miles. Looking back, I thought about the situation. There was nothing we could have done to change our situation. It was out of our control. Yet I sat in my seat, irritated and freaking out because I needed to use the bathroom, while my husband, despite his discomfort, was happily distracted as he enjoyed watching the planes soar through the sky.
Now this predicament that my husband and I were in was really not that bad. I have been in much worse situations and am sure that I will be in worse ones again.
So, I ask myself, when the real trials and tribulations occur, how do I react? Do I get anxious about the “what ifs”? Do I dwell on my pain and discomfort? Do I get irritable with the people around me? Do I focus on the problem? Or……. Do I look up?
Focusing on my problem when the situation is out of my control does no good whatsoever. However, when I shift my eyes to God, I see how good He is despite my current plight. When I focus on God, I find inner peace no matter how much pain I must endure. When I look up, I am reminded that this life here on earth is temporary and so short compared to eternity. Looking up gives me hope that someday, I will reach my final destination and find relief from every trouble imaginable.