Long Way Home

I'm still uneasy with the traffic in Raleigh. It's almost been a week, but I guess it is going to be one of those things that takes a couple of months to fully adjust to. It's not so much the people, I don't believe. It's more the sheer number of people and the way everything is laid out. This place is massive, and there is no one spot on the road that makes it more apparent than the spot I'm about to drive up on in a few seconds. Western Boulevard slides across the bottom of State's campus like a fat kid at an ice rink. The walls of brick soon give way to a rare patch of trees and after you pass everything with "Pullen" in its name, you know you're almost there. It's my favorite spot so far - I'm driving by it right now. Just before the Saunder's St. exit the trees disappear and reveal the biggest little skyline in the world. What a view.

I jerk the wheel to steer myself back onto the exit ramp. Obviously, I'm still in that slightly giddy and naive state of mind. It doesn't take much distraction on unfamiliar streets to land you in a heap of trouble. I'm taking the long way home toward Garner because Mom and Dad said the cheapest gas was in this direction. This is only the second time I've really paid for my own gas. My parents have been good to me, maybe too good. In any case, I'm adjusting to life outside of the nest and so far everything has gone well. I eat subs from the sub shop next to the ministry center purchased with my own money and I burn my own fossil fuel going to and from home. This is a big step.

What the crap! That guy nearly merged into me. Stupid white van and your stupid banged up, spray-painted side panels. Ah! There is 440. The gas stations are supposed to be on the other side.

...

It does feel a little weird to be on a college campus and no longer be a college student. By weird, I mostly mean that it makes me feel old. Not a bad old, just a regular sort of old. The freshmen this year look like high school kids. One day they'll practically look like 4th graders. I'm prepared for this. What is cool is that I still get to walk among them. I exist on campus, (and across Hillsborough Street in the ministry center) for the sole purpose of making the name of Jesus better known. I eat when I need to eat and I sleep at whomever's place I can fall asleep at. Several of the perks of college life - mostly the stuff you get to do between classes - are mine for the taking, all without a GPA floating somewhere in space over my head, scowling at me with its angry old man scowl. Not half-bad.

What is half-bad are the lines at this gas station. I'm going to have to circle around several times just to find a spot. There is a guy just parking in the back and he looks like a urban cowboy. That's a little unsettling. All this over gas that's 10 cents cheaper than anywhere else? We're a funny bunch of people. Every morning, adults rolling out of their beds mumbling something about needing coffee before stumbling out the door and zipping down the interstate in an effort to earn some little keep in the world. Sure, there are the joys of family, HDTV, poker night, shopping with the girls and what-have-you, but ultimately, what are we as individuals really working for? What is the business of our existence? Is it really all in fighting the small battles - getting the cheaper gas on the other side of town and going home satisfied that we have stuck it to the man for the day? I'm just poor. Maybe thats why we do it, we all feel poor. I may not have much money but I don't have a few other things either.

...

Speaking of money, I just hit $41.99 when my car filled up and clicked the pump off. How often do you get that close to an even dollar when the pump clicks off? Oh yeah, back to the few other things that I don't have. I don't have a house payment, a wife, a long-term job or anything else that would tie me down to a particular location or a particular schedule for life. I'm an open vessel for God to use, (most of the time, I believe this), and the paths He can take me on are as varied as the roads leading out from the heart of this state. For now, I'm taking the one that leads back to Four Oaks because I have laundry to do. Who knows where I'll call home tomorrow.