My Brothers and Sisters,
There are two things that I spend a lot of energy avoiding. The first is cooking - and that includes all three meals and any snacks that someone might want. Any time that I have forgotten this over the past 48 years that I've been married, everyone, including myself, has lived to regret it (losing my eyebrows while grilling was always a risk).
I wish I could say that I’m good at something when it comes to cooking but, alas, I’m not. My latest experiment with the frustrations of cooking was the year I tried to make scrambled eggs for my wife and me. I was doing ok until I added cinnamon, thinking that it would be like having both eggs and French toast at the same time. Unsurprisingly, it was the only time the dogs refused to eat anything from the table.
The second thing I try to avoid – and I mean really avoid – is planning day trips. I can remember the first time I violated this rule, thinking that maybe my wife was right when she suggested that any grown man can plan a short getaway. I was thinking, “'what could possible go wrong?” Apparently, a lot. I made the decision to go to the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon in Wellsboro on a crisp, windy November morning. I had the day all set. We would walk the trails and spend the day enjoying nature. Somehow my wife agreed. As soon as she agreed, the house seemed to shudder, but I just thought it was the wind and ignored this sign of impending doom. I really should have listened. Instead, we optimistically embarked on the trip.
We arrived after a not-so-pleasant drive (who knew that all the restaurants were closed on Mondays?) to find out that no one in their right mind goes to the canyon in November. It was in the low 20s and snowing. Not a friendly fluffy snow either. More like a “you should have really listened to the house shuddering” kind of snow.
The only saving grace of the trip was encountering young newlyweds who proved that I wasn't the only one plagued by poor trip planning skills. The bride was telling her new husband that it was obvious that he didn't love her. My wife, being much more experienced, wasn't wasting time yelling at me. She was already back in the car.
I wish I could say I'd learned my lesson. However, on July 13th, I decided that it was worth taking another stab at planning a day trip, so I invited the whole family – those who were interested – to Watkins Glen, NY for a nice walk in the summer sun on the many trails.
Early Thursday morning, we left to warm sun and clear skies. I started to get a little uneasy when, just after we entered New York, it started to drizzle, then steadily rain. The road then disappeared in the fog. I optimistically (stubbornly?) pressed on. When we arrived, it had progressed into torrential downpours, the temp had dropped 10 degrees and the wind was gusting off of Seneca Lake so hard that seagulls were going backwards. I thought I might be in trouble.
What saved the day was my great family, who tried hard to keep smiles on their faces. We tend to make jokes out of our bad experiences, and this day was no different. We decided to eat and then walk out onto the pier which was partially sheltered. I hadn’t brought a coat – or a parka – and used my knowledge from previous errors and made a run for the car. I left my family in the dust without looking back.
Thankfully, my wife, who apparently knew something like this might happen, suggested going to the nearby Corning Museum of Glass until the weather improved and then go to hike in Mt. Pisgah State Park on the way home. As always, she saved the day. I don't think I will ever plan a trip again.
I'm glad that Elijah the prophet knew how to plan a trip or at least ask for directions...(I also once captained a 6 hour trip to Dorney Park when our kids were little. All seven of us stuck in the car. No one was happy that day but my kids never fail to tease me about it now!) Elijah got to experience the wonders of nature – fire, earthquake and hurricane force winds. But in the end, Elijah also got a glimpse of God. (I wonder what travel agent he used.)
Paul managed to go from Jerusalem to Rome without too much trouble. When Jesus sent His 12 Disciples out to sea in terrifying wind and rain (sounds like one of my trips), He was able to save the trip by calming not only the sea but also them.
I guess the moral of this letter is: if we trust in God, our journey will always go right in the end. Unless, of course, I am left to plan it alone.

May God Bless You.

Deacon Ray