“I am preparing you for what is on the road ahead, just around the bend” (Jesus Calling, December 27).
The words of Sarah Young’s best-selling devotional sprang to life as the train wrapped around the curve ahead. From our seats in the dining car, my husband and I watched the engines of the California Zephyr disappear.
On the first day of our two-day journey from Denver to Sacramento, the train laced through snowy canyons and stretched across narrow valleys tucked deep in the Rocky Mountains. A perfect beginning to eight days off the grid.
Time jumped the track.
It showed me what I’d forgotten—that I could live without the virtual umbilical cord of instant communication and information from people I know and don’t know all over the world.
It reminded me that God is not imprisoned in seconds and minutes and hours and days.
“Be still and know that I am God,” I heard in my soul again.
Family met us at the station. With no particular agenda, we dined with our daughter. I walked and talked with the special man in her life. Heard his heart.
On another day we visited with our out-of-state grandchildren, got to know them, listened to their opinions, discovered their likes and dislikes.
—roaring engines of an airliner that brought us home in a crowded tube of hurried people with crying children and frazzled parents.
In my office, 381 email messages awaited the click of my mouse. Amazing how the Internet churned on without me during those eight days—and how I grew and stretched and settled and relaxed without it.
“The train was like medicine,” my husband said the day after our return. A miracle out of time that reminded us both how close God is if we will stop and listen and wait and watch.
Again Sarah Young’s words brushed against me: “I shower not only blessings but also outright miracles on your planet … things that most people hardly notice, like shifting shades of sunlight, fill[ing] you with heart-bursting Joy” (Jesus Calling, December 28).
Renewed faith and fresh hope—that’s what I found during those eight days off the grid.