Almost 60 hours on a train. Well, 60 hours of traveling… I had two
layovers totaling about eight hours. Do
the math and you learn that from Saturday morning to Monday evening I was on
the train for over 50 hours.
Whoopee.
There are a number of reasons why trains are the best
form of travel. The reason why I first
started traveling by train is that trains are the most environmentally friendly
mode of transport. Then I realized how
awesome it is to have to stay awake while traveling, versus the anxiety-ridden
hours of driving that always put me to sleep.
Trains are also quite safe. Think
about it: you’re not going to crash, and if something goes wrong with the train
the conductors can stop and fix it or, at the very least, you won’t be falling thousands
of feet out of the sky.
The romantic reasons why everyone should love train
travel are also numerous. Sight-seeing
is rather magnificent. Of course, you
can see the same things in a car, but on a train you just simply have more time
to look out the window. Also, the people
you can meet makes any length of train travel worth it, from the crew to fellow
passengers. More on that in a bit. And lastly, this particular leg of my trip I
have discovered a new reason to love trains: private rooms. “Room” may be an overstatement, so I’ve been
using the word “compartment.” Bottom
line is that its private and far more comfortable than coach, especially when
you’re trying to sleep. You can actually
lie down in a room. Who knew. They may be more expensive than a coach seat
but if you’re on the train for as long as I am it’s totally worth it, mostly
because all your meals, as well as coffee and snacks from your car, are already
included in the price.
Now let me talk about the people. On my way to Chicago from D.C. (the first
layover was in D.C., from Richmond, and the second was in Chicago) I had the
opportunity to sit next to a Pentecostal pastor. The really cool part about that is that he
was supposed to sit somewhere else, but traded with an elderly woman because
she clearly had misgivings about sitting next to a young male for hours upon
hours. God at work? For me, it’s hard to believe otherwise. It’s especially hard to believe otherwise
when I consider that my car to Chicago also included a group of about ten
mission workers around my age and a separate group of Catholic Workers. Of the 60 folks in the car, almost half could
profess some form of a religious vocation.
With the various struggles that I’ve been going through spiritually the
past few years, there’s no question that God is trying to tell me that I am not
alone, even when I try to run away to Arizona and California.
I didn’t get much of a chance to introduce myself to the
other vocationally religious travelers because the pastor, Ed, and I talked for
almost the entire time we were awake.
The rest of the time I was reading, which is of the utmost
importance. Ed and I talked about a
whole range of things but what most touched me were the conversations about my
life, what I’m doing traveling out West, and why I decided not to be a
pastor. Almost immediately Ed asked if I
planned on being a pastor. This isn’t
the first time a total stranger, without much of a tip-off or sometimes no
knowledge of me whatsoever, has asked if I’m going to be a minister. But it has been a few years, so forgive me if
I had thought those days were over. A
few hours of conversation and Ed stated forthrightly, “You are called to be a
minister. Don’t run away. Don’t run away from your convictions.” That last part he threw in because we talked
about some of my theological struggles—he, apparently, as a young man was much
like me, wanting to experience the world, if you know what I mean, and trying
to stretch faith and belief to match desire rather than God’s being. His words couldn’t have been more timely,
either, since I had just come from spending a bit more than a week with my
licensed pastor friend Rob. Maybe
ordination isn’t for me, but what’s stopping me from being a licensed pastor…?
Really, in the span of a few hours I felt like I had
gained some serious clarity on where I’m heading in life and where God is in
the midst of that life. I can’t say that
I’ve already internalized all that Ed and I discussed nor can I say that I’m
going to instantly jump into applying to licensing school. In fact, I can’t even say that I suddenly
believe or trust in God any more than I did before. All I can say right now is that God is clearly
trying to push me to be who I am most content and gifted to be. Indeed, if I trace God’s fingerprints I can
go back to my time with Rob and see that when he asked me to give a testimony
to a Bible study class, God was essentially saying, “Look back and see that I
have been here throughout your life, even if you have chosen to doubt.”
All this is important because I am a doubter, I am a
thinker. That’s my best quality and my
greatest gift from God and to anyone I may come across. But that doesn’t mean that I need to forsake
belief in God entirely. Ultimately,
despite my rather large ego, my writing will improve greatly if I can believe
that there’s some greater purpose to it.
Certainly I do already believe that people will benefit from reading or
hearing what I have to say, but if I can believe that God will nurture the
spirit of those listening to me and that my gifts are given by God, or at least
partially so, then I will not run into so many moments of total and destructive
lethargy. Though I am a melancholy
spirit I write best and most productively when life has a positive flavor to
it.
My trip on the train has indeed been an experience. And I’m only halfway through the month of
vacationing.
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