Snapshot 1: The Perfect Plan
My first major road trip post-college graduation. My brother and I wanted to travel to a new part of the country we had never been to and narrowed down our options to a New England road trip. We would travel to Boston, Maine, and Niagara Falls, circling around back through upstate New York on our way back to Michigan. I created a spreadsheet with nifty tabs, detailing what restaurants we would try, where we would be each day, and what things we must do each day. We ironed out the details, making sure each day had no wasted moments. Because I knew exactly when and where I wanted to be, this trip would be filled with spectacular things. I was sure we would have a powerful, meaningful, breath-taking trip. Nothing, and I mean, nothing, could ruin our perfect plan.
Snapshot 2: Something Ruined Our Perfect Plan
I sat in a middle seat—most suitable for a child—between the tow truck driver and Cody. I wrestled with the seat belt, grabbing the end of the seat belt until I was finally able to click it in. There was not much room, as my legs touched Cody on my right and the tow truck driver I had just met on my left. We should have been at the bookstore in Connecticut right now, I thought, processing what had just happened.
It was Day 2 of our trip. Cody was turning left into the entrance of a state park in New Jersey when a car passed him on the left, side-swiping his car toward the front. We called 911 and a good Samaritan arrived. We checked on the driver who stated she thought she broke her leg and wanted to make sure Cody and I were fine. We had no injuries, but an ambulance did come to take her to the hospital to manage her leg.
In the meantime, we rode in a tow truck to a car shop in rural New Jersey since his car was undriveable. As he drove us through the hilly landscape, the driver conversed, “Hopefully it won’t take too long to get your car fixed. If they are quick about it maybe if they can get it fixed up in a few weeks, and your car’ll be ready to go.”
“A FEW WEEKS???!!!” Cody’s eyes widened. “Will we have to take another trip to get my car? How will I drive to work?”
I checked my phone and texted my church small group for prayers. I thought about how the week before we prayed for the stereotypical “safe travels for our trip”. Yet in the moment, while Cody and I sorted out what to do next, that seemingly superfluous prayer became a vital lifeline.
Snapshot 3: The Dreary Day
“What would you like on your pizza?” asked the waitress.
“Um I guess we’ll go with the chicken parmesan pizza,” I said, barely focusing on the menu. “Probably some bread sticks too.” The waitress took away our menus and started on our order.
After hours of paperwork, we finished processing Cody’s car at the shop. We rented a two-way rental vehicle to continue our trip, but later we still needed another ride to make it home. There was nothing more we could do that day so, as the mechanics advised us, we ventured on for the rest of our trip. We attempted to reset ourselves at a pizza shop for lunch.
While waiting for the food, I swirled the straw in my water, processing all that had transpired. I looked across the booth at Cody. I tried to cheer him up, but he was visibly distraught and distracted. We had wanted this vacation to be special and were trying to get back on track, but our attempts frictioned against the swirl of uncertainty and shock from the accident.
After the meal, we were once again back on the road. Near Danbury, Connecticut, a town halfway between Boston and New York City, traffic stalled for an hour. The sky was covered with dreary, lifeless, gray clouds. Because the accident set us hours behind our schedule, we only stopped once that day, reaching our hotel in Rhode Island later that evening. Zapped of energy and not wanting to walk far, we decided to go to the Chili’s next to our hotel for dinner. I was struggling to feel God’s presence in this place, wrestling with how my plans for the trip could be salvaged after a day like this.
Back in the hotel, we lethargically crawled into bed. While tossing and turning during the night, I could hear high winds and heavy rain hounding at a poorly insulated window in our hotel. I wanted this night to end, hoping that this storm would only “endure for the night” and that “ joy would come in the morning” (Psalm 30:5).
Snapshot 4: Sacred Ground in Boston
The next morning, Cody and I drove into Boston. We started the day on The Freedom Trail, a 2.5 mile long path that led us on a historic walk through American Revolution sites, near colonial landmarks, and past America’s birthplace. One location was the Granary Burying Ground which contains Ben Franklin’s parents, Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, and even the woman who inspired the mythological Mother Goose. As I entered through the gate, I saw tourists scattered throughout the yard, visiting the resting sites of these various historic figures.
I turned to the right and stood in front of the tombstone commemorating the five victims of the Boston Massacre in addition to a twelve year old martyr. These innocent lives lost catalyzed a movement that led into the founding principles America was founded upon.
As a history buff, I felt goosebumps shiver down my arms. I was on sacred ground. For the first time on our vacation, I felt like things were finally starting to get back on track according to my plan. Maybe, this trip still had a chance to become one of the most spectacular journeys of my life.
Snapshot 5: Front-Row at Fenway
We flashed the tickets on the phone to the attendant in our seating section. “Right this way,” the attendant invited. He walked down to the bottom of the section right next to the foul pole and dusted off two seats.
“We are in the front row?!” exclaimed Cody. After we sat down, I reached my hand over the top of the siding, realizing we were within an arm’s reach of the field. Families flocked into our section before the game to sign the famous Pesky Pole, one of the many traditions at a Boston Red Sox game. Cody asked a lady if he could borrow her Sharpie, and he wrote “Fellows Bros 4-19-22” right on its base.
As the cold April night progressed, the game was tied 1-1 in a pitcher’s duel. In the middle of the eighth inning, over 30,000 joined in the iconic singing of Neil Diamond “Sweet Caroline”. In unison, we all shouted the lyrics, “so good! so good!” Never before had I experienced such an electric crowd.
In the bottom of the inning, a Red Sox player hit the ball to the outfield, with the ball flying right toward us. Just a few feet in front of us, The Blue Jays right fielder lined up underneath the fly ball. Though he made the out, the ball was hit deep enough that the runner scored from third. The crowd erupted in cheer for what would end up being the game winning run. Later that night my parents confirmed that we were on TV during a replay of that moment.
When I planned the trip, I knew that the Boston Red Sox game would be one of the highlights. I was excited to see Fenway Park, the oldest Major League ballpark. My favorite memories of the night, however, were signing Pesky Pole, sitting front row, and being a mere few feet away from the game-winning play. These were things I could not plan, and I was starting to realize that maybe unplanned moments can make a trip worthwhile.
Snapshot 6: Postcard in Portland
The next stop was at the Portland Head Lighthouse in Maine, one of the most iconic lighthouses in America. We walked on a platform toward the coast. Cody and I took out our phones, snapping hundreds of photos and looking for the perfect angle.
The sun gleamed upon the Atlantic Ocean as waves crashed upon the rocky shore. Clouds lazily floated in the bright blue sky. Finally near the beach, I took a photo that was my best attempt to take in the breathtaking splendor. Despite my best efforts, no photo could succinctly capture this scene in all of its beauty. I could not have planned more perfect weather for that afternoon.
Snapshot 7: A Totaled Car
After spending an hour taking in Portland Head Lighthouse, Cody and I walked back to our rental vehicle. In the parking lot Cody called the car shop to find out if there was an update for the cost and timetable of his car repair. One of the workers answered the phone and went through the quote.
“The car is basically totaled,” he revealed. “The car looks fine on the exterior, but it was hit just in the right spot that the transmission was messed up.”
“What are all the damages so I can relay this information?” I asked with a pen and notebook in my hand.
“I mean it’s too much to include it all,” he explained. “About $18,000 in damages so far. It’s a 140 line estimate. I mean you need a new tire bar, left side bender, both wheels are scrapped, the transmission, a new steering rack, lower and upper control knuckle. I mean that’s just the beginning of everything.”
We finished the phone call, sitting in the parking lot to process the news. The last few days had been phenomenal, but immediately right after the high of the lighthouse we were brought back into the reality that the car accident still lingered. Cody would need to buy a new car, and we did not even know what ride we would take home. Once again, we wrestled with the highs of the vacation with the lows of the accident.
Snapshot 8: Bar Harbor: The Sand Bar
The next destination was Bar Harbor, Maine, where Acadia National Park resides. The town features a quaint town and a smorgasbord of nature: mountains, oceans, rocky beaches, deciduous trees, and forests. For our two night stay there, we booked a cheaper but lower rated hotel in the middle of town since the resorts we looked into either had no availability or were outrageously priced. The week before the trip, Cody received an email stating our hotel was closed for the season so our hotel was upgraded to a harborside view. The initial price was locked in so we did not pay extra.
During the evening, we walked down to the beach that connected to our resort. Normally the sand bar is submerged under water during high tide. However, the only time during our stay, the sand bar was above water at sunset. We walked across the sand bar to a small island. Standing on the rocks, we watched the sun set over the Atlantic Ocean.
This moment was incredible. We were at a resort we did not plan to stay at. This was at a rare time where we could walk on the sand bar. Neither of these details were planned, but once again the unexpected was welcomed at this moment.
Snapshots 9 & 10: Going Farther on the Kancamagus Highway
After riding for 1350 miles, with 23 driven hours, and through insanely scenic destinations over a span of six days, I was physically and mentally exhausted. We were in the White Mountains driving on the Kangamangus Highway in New Hampshire. Cody wanted to continue on a few more miles for a few more spots, but I was done.
“Cody, can we just head back to the hotel?” I pleaded. “I know it’s gorgeous out here, but I am exhausted. I think I need to rest.”
“Well, I kind of want to hit just a few more locations,” Cody responded. “If it’s okay with you, we’ll just go to a few more and head back.”
Even though all I wanted to do was sleep, I acquiesced and let Cody continue on for a bit more. Inside I felt drained of all emotional energy to the point I did not know if I could possibly enjoy the landscape.
Cody pulled up to a gazebo overseeing a hill. I exited the vehicle and looked at the scenic bypass. With a view of mountains (snapshot 9), all the fatigue inside of me melted away. I stood near the gazebo, standing still and resting in awe of these mountains. We continued on to one more spot, with me feeling more gusto.
We crossed a bridge over a small river. Lining up the view with the rocks and mountains in the distance (snapshot 10), I took in the view of the river. As we headed back into town, I felt rejuvenated, glad that my brother pushed me through my fatigue.
After this leg of the journey, I finally began to embrace wherever our trip led us. By pushing beyond what I planned, I experienced such joy and made a precious memory.
Snapshot 11: The Way Forward
When we were in Maine, we stopped at a welcome center that featured this sign. At the time, I took this picture because I thought it was neat that many towns in Maine share its name with a more famous global counterpart. Yet now, the arrows, pointing in different directions with varying distances and even different countries, provide a great visualization of how I felt when my perfect plans were wrecked.
I had my path set out, where we would go, what we would eat, and when we would be there. Yet all it took was one split second error by another person to completely break it. I wish I could say the accident and its fallout were neatly resolved overnight, but they were not. I was not able to go to the bookstore in Connecticut with over 500,000 books. I did not see Niagara Falls nor Lake Ontario like I wanted to. It took 51 days for Cody to get the accident resolved with his insurance. We had to use two different rental vehicles to make it home. Like with this sign, I felt pulled in many directions, with no clear straight path forward after the accident. How will we move on from this?
A few years ago when laying out our church’s vision, Pastor Tim Flickinger said in a sermon, “the way forward is not a straight line.” Life is messy, and our well-intended thoughtful plans can be wrecked even before we feel like our journey begins. As Proverbs 19:21 says, “Many are the plans in the mind of man, but it is the purpose of the LORD that will stand.” We are not in control, as ultimately God determines our path. However, as I learned from this trip, beauty does not come from every plan being perfectly executed. While I missed out on some places, many of the most precious moments on this trip were unplanned. I could not have anticipated the game winning sac fly happening just feet away from our seats. I would have never walked across a sand bar to an island as the sun idyllically set on the Atlantic Ocean. I wanted to stop before I had the chance to gaze at the mountains on a bridge over a trickling river.
We cannot predict life, and even the most detailed itinerary will fall apart. James 4:13–17 states how a yearly plan for a profit may fail for the plan is not even guaranteed to succeed tomorrow. Like this passage says, my road trip plan quickly vanished like a mist in an instant. When these interruptions come, we are faced with a few choices: to stubbornly hold onto our broken plans and continue in the same direction, to stay stuck in the past over what used to be, or to move on, doing what you know to be right, trusting ultimately God with your plans.
If you follow Him, you will not always go where you want. But out of the ashes of your broken plans, a beauty can be reborn that would not have existed without the detour. Whether you are journeying on the New England Coast or through the various stages of life, find the beauty in the interruptions and trust your plans, wrecked or intact, in His hands.
Next Steps
- Recall a time when your plans did not go as expected.
- As you think back, ask yourself what God was doing in that moment. Were there unexpected blessings that came from the failed plan?
- Write down a record of God’s faithfulness to you. Include any verses that encourage you and remind you of His trustworthiness.
