Who's Driving the Bus?

If  he arrived early, he would put the bus in park, walk down the hill, and carry us. We knew he loved us. Once he let my best friend Paula and I get out and attempt to catch a bird. And there was the time he opened the bus door and let a goat climb aboard! We would sit in the back seats, and when we rode over the Replete bridge, we’d yell “Faster!” with the goal of our little heads touching the ceiling. Somebody would probably complain nowadays, but that elementary school bus held some of my fondest childhood memories. And something I’ve come to realize is that it really matters who’s driving the bus.
     This past month I had the pleasure of accompanying mom, a family friend, and a cousin on a senior citizens bus tour to Chattanooga, Tennessee. The trip started out a bit rough as one dear woman tripped, breaking her glasses, and cutting her head open in the parking lot before we even got on the bus…but she still went on the trip! We all received ID lanyards, which apparently make you have to go to the bathroom every 2 hours. Our tour director gave an introduction pep-talk about important things like the bus would stop every two hours for a restroom break. It was mandatory that everyone exit the bus as not to get a blood clot and die like so-and-so did (She mentioned a specific name and it was at this point, cousin Rebekah and I made a new goal not to become part of future tour intros.) We were also informed that the bus we were on was not the scheduled one, we had a new bus driver, and we were all to note the crack in the windshield happened before our tour began. When the bus driver introduced himself, he comically added he was not actually a new bus driver, but had 30 years driving experience and was much better than the driver originally scheduled. 
      I could tell this bus ride was going to be drastically different from both my elementary and high school busing experiences. During our one-hour, three-to-a-seat, ride to the county high school our legs would go numb from the heavy textbooks and backpacks stacked on our laps. The bus driver carried a giant wooden paddle with holes in it which he’d bang on the floor to calm everyone down when it got too rowdy. By rowdy I mean the high school boys blaring “Bang Your Head” or throwing all the windows down in freeze-outs when one of them had eaten beans or ramps the night before.
     The recent senior bus trip to Chattanooga was much calmer and allowed several life lessons to be illuminated. I realize I need to step up my game when it comes to resilience. Sometimes there are unexpected prizes IF you can just stay awake and finish the bus bingo games. Bus drivers are a lot like shepherds leading their flock from one pasture to the next. The flock has to trust the bus driver. (There were times we didn’t know where we were going but we all lined up and got on the bus anyway!) And being punctual means being 20 minutes early.
      I see signs all the time saying “Bus drivers needed. Will train”. Are we being asked to lead and are we willing to be trained? What a blessing it is to have a bus driver/Shepherd who loves us and steers us in the right direction…one who will carry us when we are tired from climbing the hill. “Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you” (Isaiah 46:4) The most important question we can ask ourselves is “Who’s driving the bus?”
 

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