Coming Back to Reno
I was in Wyoming last week finishing up Power Move Part 2… and had to switch an afternoon standby flight for a way-too-early-in-the-morning Sunday flight so I could get a seat and arrive in time for a Monday morning meeting.
I was trying to be a good steward of gasoline (aka… prices are really high here) and so rode the bus to the airport in Reno. So when I returned, I anticipated hopping on the bus and having some nice driver transport me back to my Sparks apartment.
Guess what? The bus doesn’t run from the airport on Sundays. My bad!
“There’s a stop nearby,” she said.
So I called the bus dispatch and found out that there was another stop “just a 10 minute walk away” she said. Well, actually that’s not entirely true… unless of course your legs were 6-feet long and you didn’t have any luggage to haul. That bus stop is actually more like a 20-minute walk… with howling winds, call it closer to 30.
But I made it… with 10 minutes to spare before the next scheduled bus arrived. I waited.
As I am waiting, a cute little old man walks by me and we have a quick Good-morning-How-are-you? exchange.
About 4 minutes after it is supposed to arrive, a city bus comes barreling down the street with the appropriate destination on the marquee. Problem is… it’s on the wrong side of the street!
I frantically wave but the driver makes no apparent attempt to stop. I look just down the street and… of course… there’s a bus stop on the opposite side. I was totally blind to it earlier when I arrived at my current bus stop.
I call the dispatch again… and unwittingly talk to the same lady.
“Do I need to be on the northbound or the southbound side of the street at this stop?” I ask.
“The northbound bus will take you to the downtown station,” she replies.
I make a low grunting noise… the dispatch lady is kind… I think she realizes it’s me again and that she didn’t specify which bus stop when I called the first time… so her tone is apologetic.
I cross the street and go to the northbound stop where I will wait another 30 minutes for the next bus.
The cute little old man comes back…
… now he has groceries in hand. He smiles at me and says, “Are you going to get where you need to go now? Are you on the right side?”
I smile and say that I think I’m headed in the right direction now and thank him for his kind concern. He walks fast down the road but turns to look at me a couple of blocks down.
As I wait in the brisk wind… thankfully it wasn’t terribly cold… I start to talk to God. I ask why this little jaunt back to my apartment has turned so challenging.
And wouldn’t you know it?!?!
God answers back as only God can do: Well my dear… you WERE on the wrong side of the road!
My reply: No DUH!
That’s kinda how it is with me and God sometimes… just a bit of feisty-ness between us.
So the rest of my bus ride home is about the same. More buses that don’t run on Sundays. Mis-leading information from bus drivers about what routes to take. Station offices closed and route maps torn off bulletin boards.
I am never short of a lesson-learned.
Life always presents lessons if we look for them. My lessons that day were two-fold.
- Check out the bus schedules before you try to ride one home. [ Yes… very simple and obvious. I’m a dunce. ]
- Don’t be on the wrong side of the street with God. [ Let God be in control. ]
The whole wrong side of the street thing with God was a metaphor for my life that day. I was feeling at odds with everything.
In fact, I was downright angry about a lot of stuff… least of which was the over-zealous security check with TSA at the airport. ( And you know you can’t say anything to them because then they’ll report you for threatening words and take you off for a whole strip search! )
But honestly… God and I were not really buddy-buddy at the moment. Until I realized that I was the one on the wrong side of the street. I was at the wrong bus stop… trying to catch a bus going the wrong direction… the direction I thought I should go… not the direction I needed to go to get where I wanted to be… which was home.
God doesn’t waste anything on me… even a simple bus ride home from the airport.