Along I-65, there was an anomaly in the space-time continuum located near the exit to Rensselaer, Indiana. Roxanne and I discovered the phenomenon on what turned out to be the longest road trip from Chicago to Cincinnati, Ohio - ever! The convergence of holiday traffic, fender benders, and road construction was unprecedented. With less than 100 miles clicked off on the trip odometer, we were already 3 hours behind schedule. We were quite frustrated, not to mention famished. In the distance we could begin to see the outline of an A-Frame structure. Getting closer we could read giant letters painted on the roof. It said, “GRANDMA’S.” It was a restaurant with an adjoining gas station. We thought, “How could a place named Grandma’s be bad?” We would soon find out.
Upon opening the door, we found ourselves in the Twilight Zone. If you are too young to know what that is, think Simpson’s Halloween Specials. Spilling over each stool of the lunch counter was a large man hunched over a cup of coffee, and each of them had either forgotten to wear their belt that day or simply didn’t own one. We averted our eyes and sat in a booth. Each booth had a payphone and a large “No Smoking” sign – ignored at every booth but ours. The waitress had lived up to her title. We waited, and waited, and waited, while she swatted at flies with the deep fryer basket, stopping a few times to take a deep drag on the cigarette that had been bouncing on her lower lip. We finally used the payphone to order in a Domino’s pizza. The pizza delivery guy was caught in traffic, so we eventually ate something off the menu - almost literally! When finished eating, we went to the cashier to pay our bill. She insisted on seeing my driver’s license, even though I was paying cash. I refused, gave her the money, and blurted out what Roxanne was thinking, “Let’s get out of this God-forsaken place.” It was about five miles down the Interstate before we broke free from that vortex of weird, but Grandma (a.k.a. Stephen King) had the last laugh. Whatever it was we ate, it soon began to eat us.
I’ve embellished the story, but not by much. In fact, there are a lot of true-but-strange details I left out. You may even have had similar run-ins with weirdness in your life; if not, they will come. It is experiences like these that fuel the myth of the God-forsaken place, or the idea that God is more present in one place than another. I’m sharing this particular story because since I’ve begun writing Northwoods Musings, I have had some conversations with people who have mistakenly thought that they need to be in the North woods to hear or see God working in their life. There is a common misconception that God is more present in a “natural” setting than He is in an “urban” setting, that somehow God “works” in the national park system and men “work” in the city. These ideas even seem to get support from accounts in the Bible, such as when Jesus went to the garden to pray, or when He would go into the wilderness to be with the Father. But these examples speak more of the attitude of Jesus’ heart and His hunger and thirst for intimacy and solitude with God than they do of God’s location or proximity.
Our Father is as present by a pristine mountain lake as He is in a gritty urban area. He is as present with those at retreat centers as He is with those who are at work in an office building. Some of the first disciples were at work, either fishing or collecting taxes, when Jesus beckoned them to follow. (Matt 2:18-19, 9:9) In my personal experience, God pierced the chaos of downtown Chicago when He invited me to ask Him about Jesus. I was eating lunch on the edge of the concrete and skyscraper lined channel called the Chicago River, and I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior that hour. Since then, I have been re-telling the story He has been writing for me, with the hope that others will want to let Him write their stories as well, tell others about it, and so on.
I’ve met many people along the way who have been worried that God has been chased out of schools, the public square, and big cities in general; but that is just an urban myth. God can’t be chased from anywhere. God doesn’t forsake us; we forsake Him. We’re either too busy or uninterested. The truth is, God is everywhere, including at Grandma’s restaurant (maybe eating Chinese take-out), patiently waiting for the waitress to be done with her distractions and pay attention to Him.
When I push aside the distractions in my life and have a sincere desire to be with Him, He meets me in the woods and in the city. When you do the same, God will meet you anywhere too.
Grace to you.
Dave Paukner
