Trains are notorious for being
behind schedule. At least Amtrak trains are notorious. My husband, kids, and I
have experienced that on numerous occasions: broken down engines that required
a LONG wait and a “tow” home; stopping and waiting for a cargo train with more
seniority to pass us, on their way to delivering goods; and then weather
that delays or slows travel.
It’s not so bad, unless you need to
be at a certain place at a certain time. Especially at Christmas, since it
doesn’t get postponed for delayed trains. But sometimes being behind isn’t so
bad at Christmas, either. And that’s what the following story is about—a train
and some passengers moving on a pre-ordained schedule, while God was working
out His own. At Christmas.
If you’ve always enjoyed train
travel and taken some rides, you’ll appreciate this story. If you’ve never
ridden a train, you’ll still appreciate the wonder of it all, and, if the
feedback I’ve received is any indication, you’ll want to book your next
cross-country trip on one!
Enjoy!
A Heavenly Timetable
Andrea Arthur Own
After plunking himself next to me at
the breakfast room table, my husband, Chris, gave me The Look, the one warning
me his overachieving brain had hatched another big idea. “How about breaking from our normal Christmas traditions this year
to take a train trip to Seattle and then across the country to Milwaukee to
spend Christmas with my family?” he asked.
I grinned. Now this was one of his
better ideas! We were both captivated by a train’s magical, romantic allure.
With two young sons, ages six and two, I knew romance was unlikely, but I hoped
for magical. I didn’t have to think twice. “Let’s do it!”
Chris delved into trip
planning, and on December 21, we all boarded Amtrak’s luxurious Coast Starlight
in Los Angeles for the first leg of a seventy-four-hour odyssey. When the train
departed the station, we were already enraptured and delirious with
anticipation.
We spent
the first day learning to dine, balance, and promenade successfully without
being decorated by our food, ricocheting off narrow corridor walls, or
rebounding into another passenger’s lap. Moving between the jostling cars also
required a new skill set. Our boys erupted in belly laughs as they perfected
their train legs and learned how to buckle themselves into our sleeper
compartment’s top berth. We relished hours spent in the spacious lounge car
playing games, learning magic tricks, nibbling fancy snacks and Christmas
chocolates, and surveying breathtaking landscape. By day’s end we felt like
train travel pros. And we were in heaven.
In Seattle
we departed the Coast Starlight and boarded Amtrak’s Empire Builder to journey
east. When we stopped in Spokane around midnight, I was grateful to be ensconced
safely in a heated sleeper since the outside temperature registered below zero.
But my cousin’s winter train trip horror story of his Amtrak breaking down and
toilets freezing over made me slightly uneasy.
In Spokane
we remained on our train and awaited the arrival of another Amtrak carrying
connecting passengers from Oregon. Assured the
wait would be short, we went to bed thinking we’d sleep through most of Idaho.
But when I drew aside our room curtain at sunrise, the “Spokane” station sign
greeted me. We hadn’t budged an inch. Our train was now six hours behind
schedule, and we languished for another three hours before the awaited train finally arrived. After those sleeper cars were
carefully attached to ours, we departed.
We soon
crossed the Washington-Idaho border, turned northeast, and zipped across the
Idaho panhandle. As we neared the entrance to Montana’s Glacier National Park,
alabaster snow lay around us in all of its dazzling, virgin state. Only an
accumulation of deer tracks in several areas near the rails revealed life
stirring amidst the powder-cloaked ground. Towering evergreens bore mounds of
snow on their outstretched, bowed limbs, inviting us into their secluded winter
wonderland. To us Southern Californians, it all looked so…Christmassy!
When we emerged from the
pristine backwoods into a sprawling meadow, a sprinkling of rustic log cabins
balancing geometric-shaped snow stacks greeted us. Some single-story cabins
were swaddled in snow to their eaves. They appeared to be hibernating
contentedly, patiently awaiting their owners’ spring homecoming.
The only
thing distracting us from this breathtaking spectacle was our slowing train
that soon screeched to a stop. We peered out windows in curiosity before
learning that the rail switches had frozen, which meant rail switching had to
be performed the old-fashioned way—by hand. To accomplish that feat, the engineers
would shovel through snow and then chop out ice binding the tracks to access
the switches.
My husband
and I locked eyes. Quick mental calculations confirmed we wouldn’t make our
scheduled arrival of early Christmas Eve. I hastened to our room to verify the
heat still worked and then tested our toilet’s water flow. So far so good.
After two
backbreaking hours spent hacking and scooping in freezing temperatures—while
most passengers munched snacks in train car warmth and admired the sublime
scenery, and I test-flushed our toilets several times—the crew safely completed
the rail switching, and we were once again on our way.
But some
fiercely agitated passengers became persistently vocal about their displeasure.
Many were making train connections in Chicago for passage to East Coast cities,
and now they’d likely arrive too late to enjoy Christmas festivities with their families.
Yet as
their agitation level increased, our family’s joy skyrocketed. The train crew
didn’t have control over the weather, and we knew they were doing their best to
get us safely to our destination. Our boys certainly weren’t keeping track of
time. This was an adventure! And I was determined
not to allow a schedule failure to derail our enjoyment. Doggone, if we ended
up spending Christmas Day on that train, I’d be telling our boys Bible stories
and leading them in caroling! Couldn’t these complainers be grateful they
didn’t have to endure frigid rooms and frozen toilets?
Finally,
to avoid hearing the escalating, sometimes salty passenger complaints, Chris
and I ushered the boys into our room and shut the door. It was already after
dark on Christmas Eve.
As we rolled
through North Dakota under a crystal clear sky, I was mesmerized by the
spectacle outside our window. A full moon illuminated the ice-clad, iridescent
prairie for miles, transmitting an ethereal appearance to the far-reaching
landscape. The voluminous orb engulfed the ebony backdrop, its light blotting
out any surrounding starlight. Powerful. Magnetic. Blinding. Fearsome. Its incandescence bored
through my eyes right into my soul.
The
dazzling star guiding the Wise Men to the King flashed into my mind. Was that
light they followed with such urgency so glorious and mesmerizing? So…intimidating? A tangible presence of
glory invaded my senses. But instead of joy, my heartstrings reverberated with
an unexpected, disquieting fusion of humility and fear. I felt exposed.
Reflexively, I looked away and lowered my eyes. “No wonder the Wise Men
immediately fell on their faces and worshiped him,” I murmured. “They didn’t
have a choice!”
The light
remained with us as we departed North Dakota and crossed Minnesota and
Wisconsin. It illuminated the rails for miles. We felt bathed in it. The sense
of glory and power remained, and the fear soon melted into
a soothing sensation of divine, protective love. It was the next best thing to
a caroling Heavenly host! At 2:00 AM Christmas Day, we arrived safely at our
destination.
We’d
already received our Christmas present, though. The Creator’s finger had been
displayed across three thousand miles of dazzling panorama. Even in the “dead”
of winter, we witnessed signs of life bearing testimony to his presence.
If the
train had been on schedule, we would have arrived during daylight hours and
missed the radiant Christmas Eve moon reminding us of that miraculous night
that forever changed the world. The night that truly gives meaning to Christmas
Day. We would have missed the peace and magical events that often seem mundane
to jaded eyes.
Although
there was celebration with family yet to be enjoyed, our hearts overflowed with
the magical gift of our Christmas train, which traveled on its own, heavenly
timetable: late, yet right on time.
May you all enjoy your own “magic” this Christmas. In fact,
be on the outlook for it!
God enjoys surprises. J
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If you’re interested in reading more family friendly Christmas
stories, pick up your own copy of this year’s Chicken Soup for the Soul Joys of Christmas book. This story, and
many others, will keep you laughing and smiling this Christmas and for many
years to come!
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So, until Monday, may your week be
full of blessings that you receive and give, your heart be full of joy and
thankfulness, and your days be filled with laughter. Build a little heaven in
your life right now, and watch your heavenly garden grow!
Blessings,
Andrea
When the eyes of
the soul looking out meet the eyes of God looking in, heaven has begun right
here on earth. ~ A. W. Tozer
Image by Google and Andrea Arthur Owan