FOCUSING ON THE UNBROKEN LINE

by Carol Tebo

         Long before we made the decision to become full-time RVers, I had a revelation that would eventually become the undergirding principle of our present lifestyle.  In the course of our many travels, I had on occasion found myself driving at night on an unfamiliar, unlit, two-lane winding road.  Often only able to use my low beams due to oncoming traffic, it was difficult to distinguish the curves until I was upon them, and I would feel the apprehension mounting as I searched the road ahead, trying to determine which way it was going to bend.

         On one such occasion after driving in an anxious state for an extended time, I decided that instead of straining to see down the road, I would focus my vision just in front of my car and on the solid white line along the shoulder.  To my immediate relief, I found I could drive in that manner seeing exactly what I needed in time to negotiate any twists and turns in the road.

         Then, in a sudden revelation it occurred to me: This is exactly how I am supposed to live life!  I am to stay focused on that solid, unbroken line, attending only to the present moment, what is right in front of me.  This is what Jesus wanted me to understand when he said: "So do not worry about tomorrow: tomorrow will take care of itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own" (Matt. 6:34 New Jerusalem Bible).

         Of course, receiving a revelation and responding to its truth in the way I live my life are two different things.  But three years ago, my husband and I came to a critical juncture in our lives--mentally, physically, and spiritually--and made a decision and commitment to base our lives on Jesus' injunction to ". . .strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness (that solid, unbroken line), and all these things will be given to you as well" (Mt. 6:33).  Little did we know as we headed down the road in our trailer what wonderful surprises and life-changing lessons lay in store for us when we decided to travel with Spirit.

         As with anything new, I had a lot to learn.  Transferring old modus operandi to my new lifestyle was not the way to go, and Spirit put up a signpost in front of every wrong turn I attempted to make.  I had always prided myself on planning ahead and being organized, and I set out trying to do that in my new life.  I quickly found that I was wasting an excessive amount of time making and adjusting plans and reservations, trying to assure that we had a spot to park or a sight to see.

         As I talked with seasoned RVers, I learned that most of them seldom made detailed plans, leaving themselves free to go where the Spirit led--which was one of our professed reasons for what we were doing.  After a particularly frustrating and time-consuming series of phone calls one day, it became very clear to me that this was not how I envisioned spending my freedom.  And so, I went back to our trailer, lay down on the bed, and turned over the scheduling to God.  From then on, everything fell into place effortlessly.

         Even when it came to acting on our dream to build houses with Habitat for Humanity or help at disaster sites, Spirit put on the brakes, showing me that first I needed to slow down, rest, allow myself a transition time, and to let the vision we were given evolve in its own way and time--not mine.  Through regular meditation, I began to relinquish my will, to "wait for the Lord" and renew my strength (Isaiah 40:31 RSV), to accept that indeed "there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven" (Eccl. 3:1 RSV)  Only then was I ready to let Spirit do the driving.

         What an incredible ride we've been on!  Each road we have gone down has led naturally to the next.  The signs were always so clear, there was no mistaking them.  In an 18-month period we participated in three Habitat for Humanity blitz builds (building a number of houses in one week); spent two months in Birmingham, AL, doing clean-up and recovery work after the devastating tornado there; were led to Spencer, SD, to help with the distribution of food, clothing, and household goods after the tornado that wiped out that little town of 300; and ended up repairing range fences in South Dakota with members of the Lutheran Church to give help and hope to farmers and ranchers hard hit by the previous winter's blizzards.  The following spring we returned to Birmingham to build homes for tornado survivors with Habitat and participate in the anniversary celebrations of that city's remarkable recovery.

         If we ever had doubts about letting Spirit map our itinerary, those eighteen months erased them.  Spirit continually instructed us in the midst of our experiences.  We were shown that we are only responsible for doing our part, and this enabled us to pace ourselves and give ourselves permission to take a day off when we needed rest--both physical and emotional.  We also learned humbling lessons about the importance of receiving--even from people who have lost everything.  And, as we remained attuned to Spirit's guidance, we became sensitive to when it was time to move on.

         How different our attitude and approach to situations has become as we have grown in our ability to follow Spirit's directions rather than our own.  At one blitz build we allowed ourselves to be used as facilitators rather than doers, and derived deep gratification from helping first-timers experience the satisfaction of putting into practice the "theology of the hammer," as Habitat founder Millard Fuller expresses it.

         We have learned to recognize our limitations, as well.  Though we were selected to participate in the Jimmy Carter Work Project (a thrill for any Habitat volunteer) in Houston, TX, we admitted that we do not hold up well in extreme heat and humidity.  Since our mission is to build homes for God's children, we acknowledged that no one home is any more important than another.  As a consequence, instead of going to Houston we chose to work at a small blitz build in Regina, Saskatchewan, where both the weather and the size of the project were more suited to our physical needs and personalities.  These invaluable lessons have enabled us to become better instruments of God's love.

         Spirit has not only guided us in the endeavors we had initially envisioned, but we have also been taken in directions we didn't anticipate.  For one thing, we have both begun writing.  For me, this is not surprising because I am a former English teacher, and writing has always been my creative outlet.  But for my husband, the mechanics of English have always been his Achilles heal.  Yet, to my great surprise, after twenty years of marriage I discovered that one of his life-long dreams was to write a novel--just for himself.  The end result is that Larry's book is now in the hands of a literary agent, and I have been privileged to contribute to Unity Magazine, which is a major spiritual resource for me, as well as make progress on my book chronicling what we have observed about the strength of the human spirit through our service work and the deep satisfaction that is derived from serving others.

         There have been times, however, when I have felt conflicted about the great amount of time and energy our writing has siphoned from "our perceived mission," but I relinquish these feelings when I remind myself that God has placed the desire to write in our hearts for a purpose, even though we do not yet see it.  Perhaps we are meant not only to be doers, but also sharers.

         Another happy surprise for us has been the opportunity to become members of various communities.  Though Larry and I moved regularly due to job changes, we always quickly became involved in a church fellowship and in our neighborhood.  We wondered if our need for community would be met in our roving lifestyle.  But as it has turned out, our involvement and extended stays in a number of places have resulted in our being embraced by those communities and warmly received whenever we return.  The truth is, we have discovered, that when we travel with Spirit we are at home wherever we are.

         Not surprisingly, financial issues were our greatest concern when we embarked on this journey.  But time and again I have been amazed how a means to meet every need we have had has been provided--and without strain, fret, or beseeching.  Sometimes it has come in the way of a gift or donation.  Sometimes as an opportunity to work or compensation for writing.  And other times, it has been the result of the thoughtfulness of others.

         For example, our daughter, who is also a writer, knew we would be encountering limitations trying to complete our books on our portable word processor.  When she and our son-in-law upgraded their computers, they made a gift to us of their Compaq computer and a printer.  I was both grateful and delighted.  But then, I began lying awake at night trying to figure out where I was going to set it up in our trailer.  After the second night of tossing and turning, I said, "God, you provided the computer.  I'm going to trust you to provide a place to use it."

         When we arrived at our winter campground, I asked the manager if there was a secure place I might set up my computer.  After a few minutes of thought, he offered me use of the sales office which is closed in winter.  I had a banquet table to spread out on, a window to look out at the woods, and even a private telephone line we could use--a luxury for us!  In addition, arrangements were made for Larry to work part-time to cover our long-term stay.  And the capper was that the campsite I had been envisioning setting up on had been vacated just a couple hours before our arrival.  When such things happen, I am no longer surprised, but I am still definitely in awe.

         Our increasing trust in God's provision has allowed us to meet with equanimity circumstances that heretofore would have caused us many sleepless nights.  We have learned that when we remain focused on that solid line, life is much easier to navigate, even when it takes unanticipated twists and turns.  And since we cannot negotiate a turn until we are upon it, we have decided we may as well conserve our energy for when it's really needed.  We are learning to relax into our journey with no reservations, no preconceived notions or guarantees of what lies around the bend.  We are just sitting back and enjoying the ride!

Published in Unity Magazine, March 2000.