It was Choir Tour 1988. We went to California that year, with a few stops and singing engagements along the way, and we were on the return trip, again with more engagements along the way. We were traveling I-40 east to Flagstaff where we were to do a concert at a nursing home, and we were running late. I'm not sure if they just misjudged the time or how it happened, but we were in a big rush to get there.
We usually took enough people on our Choir Tours that it was necessary to charter a bus and also take our church van along. Our Music Associate devised a rotation schedule that allowed for various chaperones to take turns driving the van, and a different group of choir members would ride each time as well. For this particular leg of the journey, I happened to be riding the van with 3 of my girlfriends. Dr. Bruce Leafblad who was the distinguished professor of Music and Worship at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, happened to be our driver that afternoon, with his lovely wife riding shotgun. Now, Dr. Leafblad is one of the most highly esteemed, respected (and respectable) and godly men I have ever known. Little did we know until we took that trip with him, that he is also crazy as a loon! The van and bus were both equipped with CB radios for communicating between them, and Dr. Leafblad humorously gave himself the CB handle, "Loose Bruce and the 5 Fems." We had a hilarious time with the Leafblads on the van that day.
Sometime into the long drive, I started feeling potty pangs. Now, I have a small bladder (if you don't know that by now, you really don't know me very well), but fortunately for me, I do have what I call "bladder walls of steel." However, even steel will give when subjected to undue amounts of pressure. As the minutes wore on and the psi inside my bladder began to increase dramatically, I began to feel a sense of desperation, but I remained calm as I asked "Loose Bruce" for an ETA. When I heard, "About an hour and a half," calm and collected went right out the van window and I began sweating profusely. My friend Malinda was also beginning to feel a serious urge to go, and pretty soon we were both in a state of distress.
I don't know if any of you have ever traveled 1-40 in that part of Arizona, but there are long stretches (the one we were on being one of them) where there is absolutely NOTHING out there, unless you count the tumbleweeds. There are no towns, no gas stations, no rest stops, no bushes, no nothing. In fact, you can see for miles and miles out there because there is literally nothing to block your view. Mrs. Leafblad combed the map for any sign of life, but came up short. I suggested the idea of stacking a few tumbleweeds together and going behind them, but everyone discouraged me from doing that. At this point, I was lying down to reduce the pressure on my bladder, and my friends were furiously searching underneath all the seats for a Coke can, a water bottle, or even an empty Ziploc bag that I might be able to use (yes, I was that desperate), but everyone had done much too good a job of keeping the van spic and span (darn them!) and thus left me in a serious lurch.
So I started praying HARD for some relief, and everyone else kept their eyes peeled in hopes a decent-size bush might pop up from the desert floor. My eyeballs were just beginning to turn yellow, when suddenly something materialized on the horizon. It was still a ways off, but you could see it, outlined against the Arizona sky. It was some kind of structure, and it was like the heavens above were peeled back and the sun's rays were shining on it such that it glowed. Dr. Leafblad floored the gas so that we could zoom ahead of the lagging bus. As we got closer, we could see that there were two porta-potties (one for me and one for Malinda), just stuck right out there on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere--relief was literally in sight!! I could hear a chorus of angels (with some mighty good sopranos) singing over us as we drew nearer and nearer.
Now, would you believe that these were the CLEANEST porta-potties I have ever seen in my whole life?? I'm not sure they had ever been used. They didn't stink, and they had plenty of toilet paper! Of course, I don't think I would have cared one way or the other. I have never felt more relief than I did when I sat my rear down on that porta-potty seat and let my bladder loose.
You can believe what you wish, but my story is that I prayed for an end to my misery, and God answered by sending those porta-potties, straight from heaven. I seriously believe that he opened up the sky and WHAMMO--there were those two porta-potties, brand spanking new, ready for me and Malinda. How else do you explain two spotlessly clean porta-potties smack dab in the middle of nowhere Arizona just where we needed them? Even more so, how else do you explain the choir of angels singing in that very spot? Hey, miracles happen, people.
No comments:
Post a Comment