Planes, Trains and Automobiles

"The home is not the one tame place in a world of adventure; it is the one wild place in a world of rules and set tasks."

G. K. Chesterton

I try not to attach too many expectations to holidays, because honestly we've reached a stage in our lives when things--and people--are in constant flux.

Carrie decided she couldn't justify spending four hours on the road today for a two-hour Easter brunch at her Aunt Mary's, and I understood. Really, I did. It's just that I haven't spent a single Easter in twenty-three years apart from her, that's all.

Scott and Brooke attended their own church this morning, and I knew I would see them afterwards, but it still felt a little lonely. Kev stood with me during worship, though, and I always look forward to singing beside my grown-man-of-a-son. And Doug--after he finished playing guitar and Irish whistles with the band--would be joining us for the message.

I sat on the aisle seat with Kevin next to me, and my purse served to save a third seat for Doug. I should have known that today, though, would be standing room only, and that sooner or later the pastor would say those fateful words that wreak panic in the heart of all anxiety-ridden aisle-sitters like me: "If everyone on the aisles would please move to the middle to make room for our visitors, that would be great."

(What's wrong with this announcement? Don't pastors know--after any time at all counseling folks--that there's a reason why certain members arrive so punctually every week and sit in the aisle seats? Hello!)

Kevin scooted down and I followed obediently, my knees already shaking a bit. "Hey, Mom," he whispered, "did you bring a lunch bag with you?" He knows about my pesky predilection for hyperventilation when I'm feeling closed in, and winked as he gently teased me.

Keep breathing, Katy. Just keep breathing.

A family of four blocked me in, a family I'd never seen before, and you'll never believe who sat down right next to me. Steve Martin! He flashed his pearly whites at me and his eyes twinkled with either amusement or apprehension--sometimes with Steve it's hard to tell. His white hair gleamed even more attractively than it does in the movies, set off handsomely by his navy blue blazer and tan dress pants.

Immediately, the source of my anxiety shifted from being sausaged into a long row of people with no inconspicuous escape route to being very concerned about what exactly Steve Martin would think of our church.

Doug came to sit with us and I explained to him (within earshot of the visitors) that I'd given up his seat for Steve (who for some strange reason introduced himself to us as "Mike"), his glamorous blonde wife, and the kids. Doug said, "Oh, don't worry, I need to be available for the songs at the end of the service anyway. Don't worry at all."

So he left me there alone with Kevin on one side (laughing at me) and Steve on the other, who knew darned good and well that I didn't for one minute believe he was some guy named Mike.

I started thinking about planes, trains, and automobiles. And how Steve Martin wanted nothing more and nothing else than to make his way home for the holiday. He found himself here, at our church, a bit bewildered perhaps, but here--with the family he loved and some crazy chick who probably imagines he's someone he's not.

Did he start to wonder if all churches are alike? And if even God Almighty might have him confused with someone else?

I spent an entire Easter service wondering if I was just another John Candy, just another character thrown in this man's path to prevent him from truly, finally arriving at the home he missed, the home he'd nearly forgotten.

Or if somehow I'd find the grace to see past his movie-star looks and welcome him--whoever he was--to his Father's house.

Read the Marginal take on this quote...

Posted by Katy on 03/27/05 at 02:39 PM

Fallible Comments...

Mom-the whole day yesterday just felt wrong. Church was good, and I sat next to Xiao, my friend from China...but, he's not my family, and I wanted to be sitting next to my family. After church I was sitting at home trying to decide if I should clean or study when I saw that it was 11:30, time for brunch at Aunt May-Mar's. I will not lie, I almost got in the car right then--but I knew it was too late. Sorry I missed it--I wish I could have been home. I missed you guys!
-----
Posted by Carrie on 03/28/05 at 03:08 PM
Cake--I'm sorry the whole day "just felt wrong" for you, but I can't help it if it makes me happy that you felt that way! You are the sweetest thing...
Posted by Katy Raymond on 03/28/05 at 05:14 PM
Carrie...you were missed. Katy...love the Steve Martin story.
Posted by Bridget on 03/28/05 at 05:23 PM
My church told the whole resurrection story
in music. My 85 year old cousin went with me. And now they hold one glass of grape juice and one big loaf of french bread. I could
see pieces of bread floating around in it. I took the littlest piece I could and barely touched the juice.

Once I swear Elvis Presley came into a dark movie theater and sat in front of me. I could see him in profile. He was smoking and coughing and laughing so hard. It was that movie, License to Drive, that had the cadillac
scene in it where his fathers cadillac door gets ripped off. No one in my family believes I saw Elvis. Of course, he was supposed to be dead at the time.
Posted by Candace Pfau on 03/30/05 at 03:50 AM
You had Steve Martin in your service? Well, we had Ben Affleck in ours! Huh...wonder what all that's about? :)

Love, Staci
Posted by Staci on 03/30/05 at 04:52 PM

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Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	Planes, Trains and Automobiles "The home is not the one tame place in a world of adventure; it is the one wild place in a world of rules and set tasks." G. K. Chesterton I try not to attach too many expectations to holidays, because honestly we've reached a stage in our lives when things--and people--are in constant flux. Carrie decided she couldn't justify spending four hours on the road today for a two-hour Easter brunch at her Aunt Mary's, and I understood. Really, I did. It's just that I haven't spent a single Easter in twenty-three years apart from her, that's all. Scott and Brooke attended their own church this morning, and I knew I would see them afterwards, but it still felt a little lonely. Kev stood with me during worship, though, and I always look forward to singing beside my grown-man-of-a-son. And Doug--after he finished playing guitar and Irish whistles with the band--would be joining us for the message. I sat on the aisle seat with Kevin next to me, and my purse served to save a third seat for Doug. I should have known that today, though, would be standing room only, and that sooner or later the pastor would say those fateful words that wreak panic in the heart of all anxiety-ridden aisle-sitters like me: "If everyone on the aisles would please move to the middle to make room for our visitors, that would be great." (What's wrong with this announcement? Don't pastors know--after any time at all counseling folks--that there's a reason why certain members arrive so punctually every week and sit in the aisle seats? Hello!) Kevin scooted down and I followed obediently, my knees already shaking a bit. "Hey, Mom," he whispered, "did you bring a lunch bag with you?" He knows about my pesky predilection for hyperventilation when I'm feeling closed in, and winked as he gently teased me. Keep breathing, Katy. Just keep breathing. A family of four blocked me in, a family I'd never seen before, and you'll never believe who sat down right next to me. Steve Martin! He flashed his pearly whites at me and his eyes twinkled with either amusement or apprehension--sometimes with Steve it's hard to tell. His white hair gleamed even more attractively than it does in the movies, set off handsomely by his navy blue blazer and tan dress pants. Immediately, the source of my anxiety shifted from being sausaged into a long row of people with no inconspicuous escape route to being very concerned about what exactly Steve Martin would think of our church. Doug came to sit with us and I explained to him (within earshot of the visitors) that I'd given up his seat for Steve (who for some strange reason introduced himself to us as "Mike"), his glamorous blonde wife, and the kids. Doug said, "Oh, don't worry, I need to be available for the songs at the end of the service anyway. Don't worry at all." So he left me there alone with Kevin on one side (laughing at me) and Steve on the other, who knew darned good and well that I didn't for one minute believe he was some guy named Mike. I started thinking about planes, trains, and automobiles. And how Steve Martin wanted nothing more and nothing else than to make his way home for the holiday. He found himself here, at our church, a bit bewildered perhaps, but here--with the family he loved and some crazy chick who probably imagines he's someone he's not. Did he start to wonder if all churches are alike? And if even God Almighty might have him confused with someone else? I spent an entire Easter service wondering if I was just another John Candy, just another character thrown in this man's path to prevent him from truly, finally arriving at the home he missed, the home he'd nearly forgotten. Or if somehow I'd find the grace to see past his movie-star looks and welcome him--whoever he was--to his Father's house. Read the Marginal take on this quote... Posted by Katy on 03/27/05 at 02:39 PM Fallible Comments... Mom-the whole day yesterday just felt wrong. Church was good, and I sat next to Xiao, my friend from China...but, he's not my family, and I wanted to be sitting next to my family. After church I was sitting at home trying to decide if I should clean or study when I saw that it was 11:30, time for brunch at Aunt May-Mar's. I will not lie, I almost got in the car right then--but I knew it was too late. Sorry I missed it--I wish I could have been home. I missed you guys! ----- Posted by Carrie on 03/28/05 at 03:08 PM Cake--I'm sorry the whole day "just felt wrong" for you, but I can't help it if it makes me happy that you felt that way! You are the sweetest thing... Posted by Katy Raymond on 03/28/05 at 05:14 PM Carrie...you were missed. Katy...love the Steve Martin story. Posted by Bridget on 03/28/05 at 05:23 PM My church told the whole resurrection story in music. My 85 year old cousin went with me. And now they hold one glass of grape juice and one big loaf of french bread. I could see pieces of bread floating around in it. I took the littlest piece I could and barely touched the juice. Once I swear Elvis Presley came into a dark movie theater and sat in front of me. I could see him in profile. He was smoking and coughing and laughing so hard. It was that movie, License to Drive, that had the cadillac scene in it where his fathers cadillac door gets ripped off. No one in my family believes I saw Elvis. Of course, he was supposed to be dead at the time. Posted by Candace Pfau on 03/30/05 at 03:50 AM You had Steve Martin in your service? Well, we had Ben Affleck in ours! Huh...wonder what all that's about? :) Love, Staci Posted by Staci on 03/30/05 at 04:52 PM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: Baby Got Book Previous entry: Authors! << Back to main


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Personal blog of christianwriter & fallible momKaty McKenna Raymondin Kansas City, Missouri

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Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri