The winding country road that takes me farther into the country is crowded most early mornings.

I’m driving away from the city, others are driving in. It’s a curvy road, headlights hitting me harshly and I just keep on.

My thumbs find the raised points on the steering wheel and so I just press in and look forward.

A bus or two will typically meet me. Often, I have to wait.

Last week in the cold rain I thought of the driver, the responsibility of safely moving those children from their homes to their schools and back home again.

I thought of the trusting children, stepping aboard and then sitting assuredly.

Christmas causes remembering.

I remembered my mother’s words.

Over a decade ago, the ICU conference room table had my siblings and I flanked by my mama and a doctor.

The doctor explained the mystery of my father’s condition, the possibility and lack of possibility.

The dialogue went longer than I believe was able to be heard. It all ran together muddled and mysterious.

My mother spoke in the moment of an anxious pause.

“Doctors are just practicing…practicing medicine. They don’t know. God is driving this train. Only He knows where it will go. We are just riding.”

I was with most of my family today. I saw the changes in us all.

I felt the feeling that next Christmas will be different.

I thought of my journal notes early this morning.

We don’t know our days and we don’t know exactly our ways. We are just travelers, passengers in a way…we choose to be joyous.

We often are worried. We approach danger. We encounter uncertain turns. We stay seated although we’d love to jump off and run. But we know we don’t fully know the way, so it’s best to sit still.

It’s best to remember we are the riders. God is the driver.

Last week, another day on the same country road I found myself behind a slow driver.

I wondered why she might be afraid or maybe just tired.

I did my best not to get close. I wondered where she had been.

This woman, sort of petite and with a posture of steel, driving so slowly I could see her.

I have no idea. I simply decided not to add to her question of how or where she may be going and whether she’d make it at all.

We don’t know the way. We’re passengers in the drivers seat but not really the drivers at all.

He knows the way, we aren’t able on our own.