Almost Home but Lost
by Debra DuPree Williams @DDuPreeWilliams
My husband and I recently made the long trip from our little villa in the Tampa area of Florida, 650 miles up the road to our condo near Asheville. This was our fifth or sixth trip up here since the beginning of the year. I actually lost count. Suffice it to say, when you are of a certain age and you’re traveling up and down the roads on trips that far, it can wear on a body. In spite of that, we decided to make it in one day.
I haven’t driven a lot since about 2011. That year, we went from a three-car family to a one-car couple. Our youngest was off in college and he needed reliable transportation. Seeing no need for us to have two cars, we sold J’s car to said son. Along with the loss of the car meant that I drove very little. My husband became my chauffeur. As one of my dear friends so aptly put it, J (that’s my husband) was spending his days, Driving Miss Debbie.
Now picture a woman who hasn’t driven more than a handful of times in the past seven years, having no choice but to drive the family car from Tampa to Asheville. It was an undertaking I wasn’t in the slightest looking forward to, but I did it with mostly a smile on my face.
Georgia on My Mind
My husband led in the rental car, full of much of our stuff. I followed in our family car. The trip went fine all the way through Florida. We avoided the route that would take us through the infamous speed traps. You know the littles towns of which I speak. If you don’t, believe me when I say Where’s Waldo? takes on a whole new meaning. We crossed into Georgia and all was well. We drove through southern Georgia which reminded me of my long-ago home in south Alabama. We made a few stops, drove some more, then left the Interstate highway.
At this point you should know that my husband will take a back roads route any day rather than the main highways and byways. Knowing his driving habits, I wasn’t too worried. He’d already promised me he’d keep me in his sightlines and if he got too far ahead of me, he’d pull over and wait for me. No problem on the major roads, and the country roads were working well . . . until . . .
We reached north Georgia.
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| An Old Home in Monticello, GA |
Now, J had in mind where we were going, how many roads we’d be on, and the many turns we’d be making. However, he failed to share this information with me. But, no problem keeping up until we left Trisha Yearwood Road or whatever the thing was called. I will say she’s from a lovely little town with gorgeous old homes.
Quaint Towns
The next small town was equally quaint. Cute shops lined the streets. But it was rush hour. If you can call that rush hour. But whether you live in DC, LA or Small-Town USA, rush hour is rush hour. It’s all a matter of perspective.
So, we’re driving through at rush hour, which in this case was about five p.m. A couple of cars cut in front of me, getting between J and me. The town has at least one traffic light, one my husband got through, but I didn’t. I got caught behind one of the cars which wedged in front of me. While the light didn’t hold long, it put more distance between J and me. But, I knew he’d pull over and wait.
Except . . . he didn’t. He just kept going.
Lost in Nowhere, Georgia
I drove on through what little was left of the town and soon found myself in rural environs. The roads up ahead were up and down hills and around curves going left and right. No J in sight. I turned my head as much as I dared in search of him. I considered my options and chose to pull off on the side of the road, in front of a ramshackle home up on the side of a hill. There I sat, out in the middle of Nowhere, Georgia. I pulled out my cell phone and tried to call J. No luck. The call wouldn’t go through. Now, I was close enough to town that there were probably cell towers near me. That told me that he had driven far enough away for those towers to be non-existent.
I called my sister in Ft. Myers, Florida. Yes, I knew she wouldn’t be able to help me from that distance. I just wanted to rant about my husband going off and leaving me! Rant over, I told her where I was in case she could get through to him. So now at least someone who loved me knew where I was.
I tried calling J again. I left him a voice message.
Finally, he got a call into me.
His Side of the Story
He went on through the town and a car that looked exactly like the one I was driving was in his line of sight, but about four cars behind him. All was well. He kept driving, thinking I was behind him. Then, that car turned off. Now he knew he had a problem. He kept driving but tried to call me. By the grace of God alone, there had to have been a tower near him. Though the signal was weak and we cut in and out, he was able to determine that he had one not-too-happy wife, but also approximately where I was. He promised to come back and get me. Within about fifteen minutes, here he came over the hill. He could see me. I could see him. Blessed relief! Rescued. My hero! I pulled in behind him once he turned around and our trip continued without incidence.
Lost. Plain and simply, I was lost. But the one who loves me the most came and found me and he led me all the way home.
How about you? Have you lost your way? Has something slipped a wedge between you and the One who loves you the most? Are you having trouble seeing him? Does He seem far away? All you have to do is call upon His name. The signal will be loud and clear. He will rescue you because He is the One who loves you the most. Just keep following Him and one day, He will lead you all the way home. (Luke 15:4-7)
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Hi, I’m Debra
Jesus Follower, wife, BoyMom, DD, author, blogger, musician, southern cook, amateur genealogist, amateur artist, living life with an accent on Southern.
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