Monday, November 29, 2010

The High Cost of Going Home

My wife and I had the opportunity to attend, and myself, officiate, the wedding of some family friends in Austin, Texas. We traveled home and timed our arrival with the big pre-Thanksgiving snow storm of 2010. It was costly.

The final leg of our flight was from San Jose, California to Seattle. There was some question as to whether we would even take off due to rough weather in Seattle and an overworked flight crew on this 737. However, take off we did and while on approach the storm became much more visible. The runway, however, was not...at least not to us. Thank the Lord for instrument landings.

Once on the ground, and after the resolution of some baggage issues, we were ready to figure out the next step; getting home to our town of Bonney Lake, some 30 minutes south of the airport. Remember that number, 30 minutes. That will become crucial in just a moment.

We decided it was best not to ask our son to venture out in the weather. All that we were hearing was that the roads in and around the Puget Sound were snow packed and icy and that there were cars off roads in all directions. So, we figured the best bet would be to find a hotel close to the airport and spend the night. We began working on that project at 11:30 p.m. All of the travelers who landed before us, and they were legion, had the same thought. I got the same response from every person at every reservation desk: "I'm sorry, sir, we're completely sold out for tonight." And, they went on to share, so are all of the Seatac area hotels.

Knowing that we were only 30 minutes from home, I then reasoned that renting a vehicle would be about the same cost as a hotel room for the night, and at least gets us to our own bed. So off to the rental counter I went and some $200 later, Elizabeth and I were in a warm and cozy Jeep Laredo exiting the airport. Remember now, 30 minutes from home.

After 11 years in Colorado, I pretty much have the icy and snow packed road driving down. But not everyone in the Puget Sound region has had the same experience I have. That became obvious as we viewed the continual post apocalyptic like scene at various intersections: cars off the sides of the road, not even pointing in the right direction and, in some cases, not even out of the lanes. However, they did have this in common; they were all abandoned. It was the perfect blend of winter wonderland and ghost town. I was motivated, however. I just wanted to get home. I paid dearly for this jeep to get me there. I just want my own bed. So, we pushed on.

Things hit a major snag, however, as we were leaving highway 167 for highway 410. By now we can virtually see our neighborhood as it sits on a hill. But, as we pulled onto the on ramp and realized the traffic was completely stopped, seeing it would be all that we were afforded for some 2 more hours. Icy conditions, a stuck truck, two cars off the road, and a busy yet still kind Washington State Patrol officer was now our life for the next 2 plus hours. We talked, we listened to callers talk of their experiences on the local call in shows, we even texted our son who was doing the same thing going in the opposite direction on I-5. We weren't moving. We just wanted to get home. We could see it, but we could not have it. Not yet.

Finally, close to 3 am, we were escorted backwards off the on ramp so that we could rejoin the freeway and find another way home; this one would remain closed. Somewhere close to 3:30 a.m. we walked in our front door. Hadn't we begun the day by leaving Austin airport at 1:00 or so? Didn't we leave the rental car facility at 11:30 p.m. YESTERDAY? Ah...the high cost of getting home; both in time and in dollars. But it was so good to get there.

As we draw near to the Christmas season, I'm reminded of the command for Mary and Joseph to "go home" so they could register for the coming taxation that Caesar Augustus was ordering. The high cost of going home for them involved spending the night in a barn since the local inn was full. Their baby was laid in a feeding trough since they were not indoors where it would have been presumably more comfortable. That same baby, born in that barn, laid in the trough, would die on a cross a horrible death before he finally went home to the Father. Now that's the high cost of going home! Mine pales in light of His. My goal was self; my bed, my home, my family. His goal was also my life, and yours.

Now, that's the high cost of going home!

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