Yesterday was a runaway train day in two ways. We ran away, the kids and I. Not far, just to Ikea. But far enough that we were out of the house and everyone smiled at least once (it may have been the ice cream cones).
It was also a runaway train day because everyone got on board and before I knew it we were on an adventure. All I said was, "We're going to Ikea!" There were showers and breakfast and coats, a stop at the ATM to get money for the toll-road and off we went-down the road that feels a bit like prison (only three off-ramps between here and Philly and you have to pay to get off). I missed our exit, turned around and got back on track with little hassle, considering that we were driving in Philly.
It was a usual Ikea trip, sitting in fake rooms (Baby kept trying to turn on the fake TVs), finding nifty things we never knew we needed, and plenty of indecision. We're almost done with Rachel's room re-do but she needed a lamp. My girls don't make decisions quickly, it might have something to do with their mother who has to point out every pro and con. Eventually we got out, accompanied by two lamps, a poster frame, lightbulbs, a grocery bag keep, and innumerable stuffed things (puppets, animals, pillows, and us - we had lunch and ice cream).
It was success because we got out of there before rush hour. That was my biggest fear about the trip because we had an appointment with the missionaries at 7. Back on that prison road things were sailing along very smoothly, considering all the snow we've gotten, when traffic slowed and eventually stopped. Pulled forward a little, then STOPPED. stopped. not one inch of movement. stopped for 45 minutes. My sanity was saved by peanut butter popcorn, the van DVD player, MP3 player & nintendo for the teenager, and Scrabble on my Iphone.
Let me give you a tip: NEVER get on a toll road without at least a half tank of gas. For some blessed reason I had filled up my tank, but several others had not. I passed a poor woman in a mini-van full of kids, pulled over on the side of the road with hood up and hazard lights blinking- waiting. I mentally inventoried our food to see if there was anything I could give her but by that time the kids had scarfed down most of what we had. There before the grace of God go I.
During this whole adventure I could not get DH on the phone. By 5:30 when we pulled up to the house I was genuinely concerned. His car was parked in the driveway and he was in bed, sick. Sick with the stuff the rest of the family previously had. Well, everyone else "had" it, I still carried tissues in my pocket. Which I used with increasing frequency the longer the day went on.
After a few minutes of freakout and breakdown the kids ate leftover lasagna, I tidied the living room and pried DH out of bed. (I was not nice to DH - while I had the same sickness I took care of 4 sick kids.) The missionaries asked that I pick up someone they're teaching so I went out to the barely plowed inner-city streets to find her.
As I trudged to the car I reminded myself that service is a sacrifice, it never comes at a convenient time. Usually the more inconvenient the better the experience... so I told myself.
Back at our home with the missionaries, the young woman, DH and I (with kleenex box at my feet because my nose was running like a river), we sat down to talk about the gospel.
It was a good experience. The things I have dealt with in my life are similar to hers, and because of that, what I said was what she needed to hear - even though I knew nothing about her. I'm hopeful that the gospel, the church, could give her an understanding of life and a support structure to improve her life, if she wants it.
It's like a runaway train though, once you get on, it could take you anywhere.
Wow! What an amazing experience!
And what is peanut butter popcorn?!
Posted by: Emily | February 16, 2010 at 10:37 AM