It had been a while since I drove the Parks Highway from Anchorage to Fairbanks in November. But that is what I found myself doing Sunday the 13th. I left St. David’s in Wasilla around 12:30 after a wonderful worship service and a great potluck lunch. The afternoon was overcast, but the roads were clear, and there was comfort knowing that others were on the road, too.
I was feeling confident that I would be home by 6:30 at the latest.
It started to get dark shortly after Healy. The wet snow started a few miles before the Jack Coghill Bridge. And by the time I was the sign announcing “only” 30 some miles to Nenana, complete darkness had descended along with freezing rain and snow.
I couldn’t see a thing. I was terrified. I was crawling and clawing along grateful for rumble strips on the road. In the darkness those rumble strips were the only way I could “see” if I was still on the road….or in a lane.
In the deepest darkness sometimes light takes the most unexpected form, and hope helps you to see. Rumble strips become light.
I made it to Nenana. Thankful for streetlights—I had forgotten Nenana has purple streetlights (Advent?). Thankful that I could call a sister, Marilyn, who, along with her husband, Ty, were another light on that dark night. A haven for the night. Salvation from the storm. Hope.
In the deepest darkness sometimes light takes the most unexpected form, and hope helps you to see. Warm hearts, a warm home, a warm welcome, salvation from the storm.
In the darkness of Advent, in the darkness of life, may hope help you see unexpected light. God born an infant. A manger holding the light of the world. Salvation in the gift of Christmas.
