come to me know
oh hear my voice when i cry to you
No sooner did she exit onto I-84 East than she began having second thoughts. Not that, that was uncommon for her. Her whole life she had been plagued with second-thoughts, doubts and worries.
Fleeing to Seattle had been an attempt to escape all that; but Seattle hadn’t worked out, it hadn’t worked out at all. So now she was returning home.
Home, with all that needed worrying about there. Home, with all its responsibilities. Home, with all its expectations of her. Home, with everything she had tried to flee from…
So now, of course, she wasn’t so sure. Maybe things would work in California after all. Maybe she shouldn’t have started traveling home…
She exhaled heavily and squeezed the steering wheel.
Ugh. This was the worst. She spent her whole life guessing, and then second-guessing, every decision she ever made.
That’s probably why she was the responsible daughter.
She could always be counted on to make the reasonable decision. She could always be counted on to agonize over all the pros and cons. She could always be counted on to play it safe.
Her flight to Seattle had been an exodus from that.
But then fate played a cruel joke on her. The one time she didn’t agonized over a decision, was precisely when that decision failed completely. Seattle hadn’t worked at all…
It was as if the fates were trying to tell her she could never escape. It was as if she was being told she was doomed to be the responsible one. She had spent her entire life being accountable, and then wishing she was more footloose.
So she had the thought to flee all that, to go to Seattle. Only she couldn’t meet anyone in Seattle, she couldn’t get a job, and the weather there was inhospitable to what joy she had known back home in Minnesota.
So here she was, going East on I-84, toward home.
Only now it was more of the same. Yet again she was making the safe decision, and yet again she was hating herself for it.
11:55. It wasn’t too early for lunch.
She switched the radio off, and started looking for exits with signs for restaurants. It didn’t take long to find one.
She took the exit, found a nondescript diner. She sat at a booth, ordered a club sandwich. As she waited for her food, she unfolded her atlas. She needed to decide how she’d get home.
She could take I-15 North and then take I-94 most of the way home. That would be the most direct route. That would be the responsible way home…
She pulled out her phone, and checked her bank account.
Seattle had depleted her bank account, sure; but she also knew there was a job waiting for her back home. Her bank account wasn’t so close to the red that she needed to take the most direct route home…
She thought about texting her parents, and maybe even her sister too; but she wasn’t ready for that.
Instead she flitted through her contact list. She found Tammy’s name.
She hit the call button. The phone rang a few times and then Tammy picked-up. She said she was making a cross-country road-trip, and asked if she could visit for a couple days.
Tammy was surprised by her spur of the moment road-trip, but of course she could stay. Tammy had said she’d still have to work, though; and with it being Advent she was going to have to be at the church more than usual.
That was fine, of course. A little time to herself; not in a car; sounded wonderful. Plus, she and Tammy always had great conversations.
Even after Tammy had left for seminary, whenever the two of them got the chance to meet up when Tammy visited home, it was always easy to slip into deep conversations.
The rest of her drive passed graciously fast.
She spent those hours on the road looking forward to stopping, looking forward to talking with her old friend; even hoping that she might gain a bit of insight.
She rolled into Mountain Home, Idaho after 8 pm. The lights in Tammy’s house looked warm and inviting. She saw Tammy at the door waiting to usher her in. Upon entering she was greeted with the scent of cooking vegetables.
They ate vegetable soup; and Tammy told her a little about the parish she was called to; Grace. She talked about the church-family and other things like that. Then Tammy asked about what was going on.
She had known Tammy would ask; of course. She even wanted Tammy to. Suddenly, though, she was tired and just wanted to rest.
Tammy must have sensed her fatigue, because she just said; “You know, I am going to have to be at the church all evening tomorrow, so I think I’ll call the Office Manager and tell her I won’t be until the afternoon. Let’s call it an early evening and then finishing catching up tomorrow.”
Even the guest room was somehow hospitable. Although she wasn’t home; she felt more at ease than she had in a long time. She slept easy that night. When the morning came, she awoke without an alarm; feeling refreshed. If she had dreamt, she couldn’t remember it.
The sun outside made the little bit of snow on the ground, glimmer. Everything was well-lit; and although the sun hurt her eyes a little; she was glad for the sunlight.
She wandered out of her room and could hear eggs cooking. She couldn’t help but wonder if all Tammy did was cook. After a shower, a full breakfast and night of rest; she felt strong.
Then just seemed to tumble out of her.
She told Tammy about trying to flee her life as the responsible one. She had told her about the moment of clarity; when her younger sister told the family that she was pregnant. She told Tammy how, of course, the boyfriend, or whoever he was, wasn’t around. She told Tammy how she could tell everyone was looking at her, how everyone just expected her to help take care of her sister and her child. She told Tammy how she fled to Seattle to get away from that life, where she would always be the responsible one. She told Tammy, too; how Seattle didn’t work out.
Holding her coffee cup that was now cold, she looked up; a sob was starting to well up inside her.
But Tammy was just looking back at her; finally Tammy spoke, though, “that’s a lot.”
“Yeah,” she said, nearly letting herself cry.
They talked a little more; and then Tammy said, “you were trying to find your own way, weren’t you? You thought you could make it on your own, but that didn’t work out. It never does”
She only nodded back, trying to keep from crying.
“Sometimes,” Tammy said, “Sometimes you have to admit you’re lost before you can find your way home.”
The two of them talked a little more, and then they ran a few errands. At the grocery story, Tammy said there were vespers that evening. Once they got back, Tammy started getting ready to go to the church. Tammy said the evening service would start at 6:30; and that after the service the two of them could grab a bite for dinner.
She had never been much for church; once she got too old for her parents to make her go, she stopped. Around 4:30, though, she started thinking that maybe she’d go to the service. Something Tammy had said kept haunting her, ‘sometimes you have to admit you’re lost before you can find your way home.’
At 6 pm she began walking to the church. She entered, uncertain and ready to turn around. Inside the sanctuary was dimly lit, and she could hear the piano. She assumed she was late and turned around to leave. She saw Tammy walking toward her, “I’m glad you’re here,’ Tammy said. The pianist had just been warming up.
She sat in a pew; with about 17 or 18 others.
In the quiet of dusk, they sang about the evening falling and about Jesus Christ as a light, even in that darkness.
She couldn’t sing along, though. Every time she opened her mouth, a sob, rather than a song, began to break out. When they started to sing about prayers coming before God, she had the thought to try praying.
She tried, but all she could think to pray was, “it’s been a hard couple of months.” She closed her eyes, and since she didn’t have anything else to do with her hands she folded them. Then she prayed, “God, its been a hard couple of month,” as everyone else around her sang.
Then she began to cry as everyone around her sang “Oh God I call to you.”
“Oh God, I call to you,” she cried.
Amen.
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