Are We There Yet?
It seems to be hardwired into us, a desire to get where we want to go as fast as we can.
I'm sure we never taught this expression to our children, but they say it.
It's enough to make even a sane parent what to put something in the soda to make them sleep throughout the drive.
(This is not a suggestion.
) Instead of getting frustrated during every trip, my husband and I desired to take that nasty question from a different angle.
We developed our favorite response.
"Yes, yes we are.
" (Hat tip to Phineas and Ferb.
) We pretend as if we had arrived and say things like, "Can't you smell the ocean?" or "I'm sitting in front of the fire, aren't you?" As silly as this sounds, we all want to get to a new location fast.
We don't want to wait in the car, or the plane, or the train.
We want to arrive.
When I was younger, I loved visiting new places for vacation, but hated the process of getting there.
Did you feel the same way? The terrain always looked the same, boring.
First, I lived in Northern California.
Every road trip involved either going through the barren mountains or driving alongside the ocean.
Either way, the view didn't change.
Yuck.
Our family moved to Arizona and the terrain changed, but my hatred of the journey didn't.
I kept saying those words, "Are we there yet?" Nothing anyone said could improve my take on this scenery, even though news reports and famous people often proclaimed the beauty of the places where I lived.
"Ugh, are they kidding?" I would think.
Years later, my husband Tim and I took a trip to Hawaii and yes, I hated the flight.
We arrived and wanted to see as much as possible.
Everyone suggested we take a trip on the road to Hana.
They called it unforgettable, which is precisely the kind of stuff we wanted to see.
You could get a tour guide, but our budget dictated a simpler approach, as it often does.
We found a cassette recording to be our tour guide.
(This was a while back.
) We popped the cassette into our rented red convertible - hey, we did splurge on something- loaded up on snacks and hit the road.
We had planned our day around this event.
It would take a day, but the pools in the town of Hana were amazing, so we had been told.
Just as we were heading out, we gathered a couple of things and a local asked what we were doing today.
We told him.
His immediate response deflated us.
"That's the longest,most boring drive ever," he said.
Tim and I tend to stick with a plan once we set it, but we both gave each other a look which said, "This could be bad.
" We headed out anyway.
Our cassette audio guide told us to drive down the road and turn at the first left.
We followed orders, but knew the road to Hana was a straight trek.
With puzzled brains, we pulled off at a small waterfall with a pool at it's bottom.
Our cassette told us information about the pool.
We got out, checked it out, jumped in for a short swim, and loaded up into the convertible again.
The cassette took us to the oldest church on Maui, black sand beaches, small snack huts, guava trees (where we ate our first guavas), a lady's back yard where we saw the largest, most gorgeous waterfall ever, paths through the forest and more.
By the time we arrived at the town of Hana, the sun was setting and we wouldn't be able to see the pools.
Funny, we no longer cared.
We adored the road to Hana and never once did either of us say, "Are we there yet?" Why? Because we knew the truth, we were there.
Every stop, every moment of the drive mattered.
We enjoyed the trip itself, not just the destination.
As we seek to become people of patience, we may discover how often we ask the question, "Are we there yet?" I wonder if God smiles to Himself and says, "Yes, you are.
" It's tough learning to enjoy where we are, but God wants us to look around, remember, retain.
There is value on each curve of the road.
I'm sure we never taught this expression to our children, but they say it.
It's enough to make even a sane parent what to put something in the soda to make them sleep throughout the drive.
(This is not a suggestion.
) Instead of getting frustrated during every trip, my husband and I desired to take that nasty question from a different angle.
We developed our favorite response.
"Yes, yes we are.
" (Hat tip to Phineas and Ferb.
) We pretend as if we had arrived and say things like, "Can't you smell the ocean?" or "I'm sitting in front of the fire, aren't you?" As silly as this sounds, we all want to get to a new location fast.
We don't want to wait in the car, or the plane, or the train.
We want to arrive.
When I was younger, I loved visiting new places for vacation, but hated the process of getting there.
Did you feel the same way? The terrain always looked the same, boring.
First, I lived in Northern California.
Every road trip involved either going through the barren mountains or driving alongside the ocean.
Either way, the view didn't change.
Yuck.
Our family moved to Arizona and the terrain changed, but my hatred of the journey didn't.
I kept saying those words, "Are we there yet?" Nothing anyone said could improve my take on this scenery, even though news reports and famous people often proclaimed the beauty of the places where I lived.
"Ugh, are they kidding?" I would think.
Years later, my husband Tim and I took a trip to Hawaii and yes, I hated the flight.
We arrived and wanted to see as much as possible.
Everyone suggested we take a trip on the road to Hana.
They called it unforgettable, which is precisely the kind of stuff we wanted to see.
You could get a tour guide, but our budget dictated a simpler approach, as it often does.
We found a cassette recording to be our tour guide.
(This was a while back.
) We popped the cassette into our rented red convertible - hey, we did splurge on something- loaded up on snacks and hit the road.
We had planned our day around this event.
It would take a day, but the pools in the town of Hana were amazing, so we had been told.
Just as we were heading out, we gathered a couple of things and a local asked what we were doing today.
We told him.
His immediate response deflated us.
"That's the longest,most boring drive ever," he said.
Tim and I tend to stick with a plan once we set it, but we both gave each other a look which said, "This could be bad.
" We headed out anyway.
Our cassette audio guide told us to drive down the road and turn at the first left.
We followed orders, but knew the road to Hana was a straight trek.
With puzzled brains, we pulled off at a small waterfall with a pool at it's bottom.
Our cassette told us information about the pool.
We got out, checked it out, jumped in for a short swim, and loaded up into the convertible again.
The cassette took us to the oldest church on Maui, black sand beaches, small snack huts, guava trees (where we ate our first guavas), a lady's back yard where we saw the largest, most gorgeous waterfall ever, paths through the forest and more.
By the time we arrived at the town of Hana, the sun was setting and we wouldn't be able to see the pools.
Funny, we no longer cared.
We adored the road to Hana and never once did either of us say, "Are we there yet?" Why? Because we knew the truth, we were there.
Every stop, every moment of the drive mattered.
We enjoyed the trip itself, not just the destination.
As we seek to become people of patience, we may discover how often we ask the question, "Are we there yet?" I wonder if God smiles to Himself and says, "Yes, you are.
" It's tough learning to enjoy where we are, but God wants us to look around, remember, retain.
There is value on each curve of the road.
The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness.Are you there yet? How can you enjoy this moment on the road rather than focusing on where you want to go?
Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.
2 Peter 3:9
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