Cheeseburger eating semi drivers

I have decided that one of the world's greatest unsolved mysteries is this: Why is it that when I am driving, the road will be completely and utterly deserted until I must cross a narrow, icy bridge or maneuver a hairpin mountain turn? At those points, when I most want to be the only car on the road, a giant semi with an even larger driver eating the biggest, messiest cheeseburger EVER will come barreling towards me or around me in utter ignorance of the fact that I exist. At that point, it is just a man and his cheeseburger; what little green Subaru Forrester?

Right as I'm veering off the road in a whirling, swirling cloud of snow and slush, my phone will ring, and I will sneeze, and my cup of coffee will teeter out of its holder in a gush of Niagara java falls, and my glasses will fall off due to the impact of the sneeze, and I will suddenly remember the name of the third grade schoolmate I was trying to remember, and I will start to cry and laugh at the same time as my heart moshes in my chest. And then the truck will be gone. The man and his cheeseburger will be gone. And I will pick up my coffee cup and listen to my voicemail and find my glasses and run my windshield wipers and get back on the road. And I will be all alone until that next hairpin mountain turn.

Everything happens at once, they say. I don't know who they are, but I can guarantee they, too, have a long list of incidents involving semi drivers eating cheeseburgers...or, in other words, every part of their life morphing, cheering, throbbing, moving, exploding at once. Even when much of the everything that is happening at once is good, it is still a little mind boggling.

The art show. The artists' reception. The doctor's appointment. The car repair. The ugly meeting at work. The co-worker getting fired. The doubled workload. The writing and editing projects that all need attention NOW. The amazing deal on an apartment. The scrubbing of walls and cupboards. The move. The myriad social engagements.

Alas, it has happened, and here I am in the thick of it, drinking coffee, sleeping less, appreciating more. In these last couple weeks of whirlwind activity, I find myself delighting in the steadfast wonders of a gracious God who created an incredible world. The crescent moon over a Wyoming sunrise blazing pink and red and orange. The lullaby of a wind chime outside my window as I set up my new kitchen. The smile of friends over a refreshing glass of stout. The flower delivery at work. The "well done" of a stranger. The kiss upon my forehead before I crash into sleep-oblivion and wake up with both my arms dead and tingly and laughingly limp at my side. 

I am thankful for this moment to listen to music and do the thing I must do to stay sane. I delight in this moment to stop and reflect and pray and write. My dear friends, knowing you are out there somewhere on the road, too, makes me feel safe. If you see me laugh-crying on the side of the road in my slush-covered Forrester that smells like spilled coffee, please stop and say hello. And I will do the same. When you encounter a cheeseburger eating semi driver, and a sneeze, and lost glasses, and Niagara coffee, and everything happening at once, I'll be there to cry-laugh with you, and congratulate you on the good, and sorrow with you on the bad, and point to the diner up ahead where we can just sit together and be...for at least a moment.