There’s nothing like a whirlwind trip to Iowa, spread over three days with 16 hours behind the wheel, to set up an epiphany.
Mine came at a quick shop in Hannibal, as dusk deepened to dark on our way home.
My husband and I were driving separate vehicles, nearly done with our mission to help a dear friend collect her possessions from a vacation home after the death of her spouse.
We stopped by the store to buy snacks to get us through the last few hours – some carbs and coffee until our wheels could safely meet our driveway.
My calories came in the form of some stand-out pretzels, a brand we’d recently discovered on another road trip.
But no matter what I tried, I could not get the dang bag open. Had it been manufactured in Fort Knox? Fingers, teeth, supplication to the pretzel gods? Nothing worked.
So, of course, I asked my husband to take a turn. He’s pretty good at getting lids off jars of green olives and fixing all manner of difficult situations, like once finding my missing contact lens on an asphalt playground, at night.
But after great effort, he, too, was defeated.
“Wait,” I said. “I have the solution.”
I pulled a pair of small scissors out of my purse. The handles were dingy, covered in soft purple plastic, torn in spots. But they’d do.
Two seconds later, the bag was open, and one minute after that, we were back on the road, munchies within reach in my cup holder.
Those scissors had been just what I needed, just when I needed it.
Which was kind of weird, really.
In the frenetic day before, our friend had chosen what she wanted to bring home with her, and told us we were welcome to do the same. I packed up some measuring cups, a clock and a fan; my husband was thrilled with some tools, a stellar step stool and a set of speakers.
Nearly out the door, I remembered the scissors, left behind in a desk drawer. I have a terrible habit of losing scissors. I figured I’d probably find a use someday for that homely pair.
Five hours later, they were at the top of my purse, ready and willing to open a bag of pretzels.
The epiphany?
It’s a blessing beyond compare to have what we need in this life – be it the air we breathe, the beauty of the world around us, the love of family, a sustaining faith.
Driving time is often thinking time for me; maybe it’s that way for everyone.
Makes you wonder if the Three Wise Men were actually long-haul donkey vendors rather than astrologers, giving them time for reflection and good decision-making, like when they dodged Herod’s order to report Baby Jesus’ whereabouts.
As my Ford Escape swallowed the miles that November night, I realized the Parable of the Scissors was not only a teachable moment for me, it was also a metaphor for the journey my friend was still on, not just in my car, but in her life.
She and her late husband had not been married long, but they’d had time to realize some dreams and help each other weather the typical issues that can arise later in life.
Some of the troubles they’d faced together were not so typical, like serving as each other’s 24/7 companion while quarantining against the dangers of COVID-19. The enforced loneliness of that time was mitigated because they had each other, and they were wise enough to treasure their time together because they knew it might not last long.
When their story came to an end, my friend’s husband needed a hand to hold while facing death, and my friend offered hers. It was what he needed just when he needed it.
On the trip to Iowa, we met with some of his loved ones. There’d been no chance during the visitation and funeral for my friend to share the story of her husband’s last hours. So she did, at the close of a companionable dinner.
His children leaned in, faces intent, taking in every word she spoke. They’d been hundreds of miles distant at the time of his passing, and it was clear they really needed this moment of closure.
We seldom know in advance what we’re going to need as we go through the hills and valleys of life. But in ways often miraculous, help comes.
Dear Leader readers, may you enjoy a wonderful holiday season in the company of those you hold close.
And in 2022, may you have just what you need.
Just when you need it.
