Salut, from the United States of America...from Illinois...from Bartlett...from my kitchen table. :)
There's nothing like this feeling. The snow has been falling gently outside all morning, adding a fresh blanket of beauty to an already-white landscape. Dad made egg, potato, and vegetable goodness for breakfast this morning, and it was so great, seeing as it was 4:30pm on my clock and I felt like I hadn't eaten in days (which is sort-of true). I'm still in sweatpants and glasses and I'll probably hit a wall this afternoon.... but for now I'm feeling great.
I'm excited to tell you more about my trip home, because it was 48 hours of stress and changing plans, but it turns into a happy ending (I'm home, after all!). Snow has been dumped on just about all of the Western hemisphere, so I consider myself very fortunate when I think of the many travelers who are still stuck somewhere. All the same, my transit was nothing short of STRESSFUL. The best way to describe it is with one of my favorite quotations (the wisdom of which I have applied and reapplied over these two days!):
An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered; an adventure is an inconvenience rightly considered.
GK Chesterton
So, to begin explaining the 'adventure'.....
My voyage home began on Sunday morning, after a relaxing breakfast with two of my best friends in Grenoble. I arrived at the train station with two 50-pound suitcases, a backpack that literally weighed as much as the suitcase, and a small shoulder bag. Cumbersome, but necessary to carry home a semester's worth of belongings and gifts. :) I looked up toward the large board where all the train numbers were displayed so I could confirm what track I was on-- next to my train, I saw a word I have never seen before.
Supprime.
That was not a good word. I knew at once what it meant. My train was not just late..... it was canceled completely.
It was only then that I noticed the gads of people in the train station, many more than usual. Lines had started everywhere-- people asking what to do, trying to change their tickets. I left my stuff with my friends and went with my friend Hamid to talk to the train conductor. He told me the next train to Lyon was at 11:44, an hour later. However, if I caught that I was looking at missing my connection in Lyon AND, consequently, in Mulhouse (yep, three changes just to get to Basel... not ideal with 125 pounds in luggage, but cheaper). Frustrated, but with a smirk on my face because I'm usually incredibly level-headed in situations like this, I headed straight for the bus station next door and asked about a bus to Lyon.
Twenty minutes later, I was on a bus headed to Lyon Saint Exupery, the airport. From there, I would have to catch a shuttle to the train station, all before 12:49pm when my train from Lyon was leaving. I was a mess of emotions on my way to Lyon: sad to leave my friends, already missing the incredible scenery, nervous about getting to the shuttle in time (and being able to pay for it--did I mention I had NO euros on me anymore?). But upon arriving at the airport, finding the shuttle worked like clockwork, and after paying for the ticket with a credit card (thank goodness I could!), I boarded the bus with t-minus 29 minutes until my train would pull away.
I practically ate my scarf I was so jittery, so wreaked with anxiousness that I would miss the main leg of my trip and be stuck in Lyon for who knows how long.
The shuttle arrived at Lyon's station at 12:48pm.
With one minute remaining, I whipped my two bags off the bus, hooked them together, and took off running as fast as I could toward the station (this wasn't, however, very fast after all-- not with my train of suitcases and my brick-laden backpack! ha). When I arrived, the board wasn't even showing my train anymore, or the track number. In a frantic search, I noticed that the first track on my right was for my train (by the grace of God!) and I quickly stamped my ticket and ran back to the looming two flights of stairs separating me from the platform. And then, the most sickening sound to hear when you are about to miss your train home-- the sound of the conductor's final whistle, meaning "attention, this train is leaving RIGHT NOW."
In a mad rush, I left my two bags at the base of the stairs and sprinted up them two by two. At the top, I shouted to the conductor to WAIT, and told him I had two heavy bags at the bottom of the stairs. He wasn't too happy that I was keeping the train waiting, but in the end, he helped me get one of the bags half way up and put it on the train for me (there is mercy in this world). I literally pulled a back muscle hauling my other 50-pounder up the stairs, and felt like I was part of some awful football training camp drill or something. But, in the end, I shoved the bag on the train next to the other and mounted it myself as the doors closed behind me. I was shaking with adrenaline, as you can imagine. But I had made it. And ironically, I was on the right car, number 16: a tremendous gift.
I thought that the rest of the trip would be easy breezy-- after all, I had bypassed the crazy beginning by getting to Lyon by alternative methods and making my train just as planned. But during this ride I couldn't help but notice with concern a few times during which the train came to a complete standstill...... not normal. And then the conductor got on the intercom and made an announcement about a 30-minute delay because of the rapidly-increasing snowfall. Thus, I realized two hours early that I would miss my last train to Basel by 15 minutes. And thus, I had two hours to worry about it.
It was at this moment that I remembered GK Chesterton's words. I was already emotionally exhausted from the day, but I realized I had to gain new perspective on this inconvenience. So I changed my mind about things and pep-talked myself into thinking of this as one grand, final adventure. It helped even more, even though throughout the day I had already been discussing my stress with the Lord and committing the details to Him. After all, my 'theme' for this semester was ruthlessly trusting my Savior, and this, I came to see, was just a sort of 'final exam.' :D
In Mulhouse, I talked to a few kind french conductors who told me I could catch another train to Basel leaving in 45 minutes. Once in Basel, I didn't have any way of contacting the Shumans who were picking me up; but the last faithful act of God that day happened soon after I entered the main station's lobby, which was buzzing with people. Mr. Shuman popped out of the crowd, the final puzzle piece. Was I ever happy to see him.
I figured that after a tense-filled day like that, my flights would have to be a walk in the park, easy, glitch-free (?). And you know what, I can't complain. My flight to London was only delayed an hour, and though I was concerned about getting through security so I could catch the flight to Chicago, it ended up being fine because Chicago's flight was also delayed an hour. Well.... make that four hours. We waited forever to be de-iced..... then to take off..... and as the snow fell heavier and dusk closed in, all I could do was sigh and know I'd get home eventually. Friends, blessed are you when the Lord's perfect peace guards your heart because you trust in Him.
I saw my Dad's face through the glass doors near arrivals as I headed out of customs at 9:45pm last night....I was closing in on a 24-hour day. It was wonderful (that's such a weak word compared to what I felt) to hug my family again and be back in my home, all decorated for Christmas. My body is really confused because of the jetlag, but my heart is happy. :)
Inconveniences..... life's most interesting adventures.
More to write in the days to come.
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