Chapter Eighteen: Whats Next
If you want a little slice of Heaven right here on Earth, then spend an entire afternoon in EPCOT with no itinerary and no crowds, with nothing but time on your hands and Fastpasses to burn.
We had no pre-set agenda for what we were calling our bonus day in EPCOT. We had already spent two days there. That was the cake. This last day was the icing.
Dude, Im so cake metaphor.
ZZUBY had grown somewhat frustrated by Turtle Talk with Crush because Crush never talks to her. We convinced her to try it one more time. First of course, we were required to ride Nemo. ZZUBY wanted to ride with her aunt and cousins, so Mrs. Z, Baby Z and I rode in a clamshell by ourselves. We took a picture of the three of us, Baby Z's face was smushed up next to our faces. We looked warm.
After Nemo, we headed to Crush. We got there just as they were letting people in. ZZUBY and my niece took their place on the floor and the rest of us found seats on the benches.
The show started and Crush began talking with kids in the human tank. He called on a kid on the opposite side of ZZUBY first. Which prompted ZZUBY to turn around and shoot us a knowing, see, hes not going to call on me look. I knew from earlier shows that the first kid just gets asked one question, but the second kid gets more attention, so in my mind it was ok that Crush didnt call on ZZUBY first. He finished with the first kid and then looked for another kid to talk to.
And dang if he didnt call on the little girl in the red shell. ZZUBY was over the moon. Crush asked her who she was there with and ZZUBY said, my mom, dad and my sister and my aunt and uncle and my cousins.
Then Crush asked where her parental units were. Mrs. Z and I proudly identified ourselves. Some of us more proudly than others, I suppose. Because Crush turned his attention to me.
If comparing guns with my boy Buzz was cool, and it was, getting to hang with Crush was wicked awesome. If I wrote under my real name or posted pictures of myself, I might be embarrassed to say that I was full on giddy to talk to Crush. Meeting Walt Disney himself wouldnt be as exciting. Except that hes dead and talking to the dead would probably trump talking to a cartoon. Most likely.
Talking to Crush was the new Butter Grilled Pound Cake. Only it wasnt. Lets not lose our heads.
We had a great last day in EPCOT; we rode Soarin and ZZUBYs new favorite ride Test Track and played Wheres the Fire? and had a hootenanny in the Visa picture deal.
All of it was good.
But in my head, the thing I keep fixating on is lunch.
And not because of what we ate or even because of the free refills, even though we did eat at Electric Umbrella. But because of something my daughter said.
We pause before we eat to ask the Lord to bless our food and to give Him thanks for providing the food for us. We normally let ZZUBY ask the blessing at lunchtime because were teaching her not to be afraid to pray out loud. And so it was that when we all had our food in front of us, we held hands and ZZUBY asked God to bless our food.
In her own style.
I tend to offer the hungry man prayer. I dont care for long, drawn out prayers at meal time. (Theres a shock.) But ZZUBY didnt just ask God to bless our food. She first thanked Him that she got to be in Disney World for 8days and 7 nights, that her sister was here and that her aunt and uncle and cousins were with us too. And then she thanked God for our food.
I realize I brag about my little girl a lot. And its true, I think she is all that and a slice of cake. But thats not to say shes without challenges. She can vex the tar out of me sometimes. Yet, dadgum if she hasnt caught the most important things weve tried to teach her. My little girl knows where our blessings come from. She knows were fortunate to get to do the things we do. And shes thankful for those things. Shes thankful for time with her Mamma and Daddy and sister. Shes thankful for time with her favorite aunt, uncle and cousins, too.
I turned 40 a few weeks ago. I didnt really have any problem with turning 40. 25 was the last tough birthday for me. 25 crushed me. After that, its all been cake. In a manner of speaking. But in the weeks leading up to my 40th birthday, I spent some time thinking about the things that made me who I am.
The thing is, Im mostly content with my station in life. Ive achieved many of the goals I set for myself. No, I dont live in the biggest house and Im not always enamored of my practice and I havent written the great American novel. But those things dont really matter. What does matter, what has eternal implications, are the people I have poured my life into: my wife and my daughters, my friends. That my daughter manifests a heart of gratitude and a heart for God is a much more significant trophy than any hardware I could adorn my shelves with.
I went to law school because I wanted to practice constitutional law. But a funny thing happened on my way to the Supreme Court, I landed in a much more bread and butter practice. And found out that I could do more good by being the face of Jesus to people who hear the term, born again Christian and automatically think, self righteous, hypocritical, close minded, pro-war, pro-Bush, anti-choice, anti-gay, Republican. Maybe some of those things are true of my views, but they dont define who I am. Im a thoughtful, compassionate guy who loves Jesus. And because I love Him with all my heart, mind and soul, I love His people and want to help them. I didnt go to law school to represent major corporations. But in my practice, I get to be Jesus to people who dont expect to find him in my office.
Similarly, its curious to me that I do this, that I write Trip Reports on a Message Board. Its not something I freely admit to people I know. Because there is no way to say it without receiving the inevitable arched eyebrow and pitiful, oh, thats interesting. Ive tried to broach it a few times in conversations with friends or clients who are headed to Disney World but when I rehearse the lines in my head, I usually want to vomit. So I dont say it out loud.
Surely you know what Im talking about.
And yet I have now written five of these things. Many people have read my words about Disney World, my family, my faith and my urgent visit to a bathroom outside of Canada. There was a time in my life when I thought I would publish a novel and maybe publish another one and people would read my words and theyd be inspired to seek a deeper faith in God, to find a better way. But it appears God had a different plan for me. I wasnt called to publish my magnum opus. I was called to be lawyer instead. A lawyer who spends some of his free time writing about his family vacations. And doing it all behind the pseudonym, ZZUB.
I wonder why that is.
Why a message board and not a book? Why ZZUB? Why not my real name? I dont know the answer to that. Except if I wrote under my real name and not ZZUB, there might be a tendency for me to grow proud and puffed up. To think Ive done something. Remember, Im a lawyer; my default setting is self-aggrandizement. I confess that although I would love to have published a book or been a columnist like George Will, theres a connection that comes from this medium I dont think John Grisham, John Irving, Aaron Sorkin or even Rich Lowry and Peggy Noonan experience. Thousands of you have shared the battle for my wallet its true, but youve also shared the sorrow of losing my son. Youve cried with me and prayed for me and shared the joy of my two daughters as well. It was an exceptional blessing that so many of you posted your encouragement when we found out two Marchs ago that we'd lost Samuel. There was a quiet comfort I received knowing that many of you were praying for me and my family. Even if you only knew us as the ZZUBs.
Youve laughed with me (at me?) as well. I love to laugh and I love people who make me laugh. And man oh man how I love to return the favor. The give and take repartee we enjoy is unique to this medium. I cant imagine I would have experienced anything like this if Id actually published a book.
He says again, Gods ways are higher than ours.
I dont take credit for what happens here in the little community of my Trip Report. Its a strange and wonderful cross section of people from different parts of the world. But I am grateful God has allowed me to write Trip Reports these last four years. I counted it a privilege that so many of you stopped by here so often to read what fell out of my head. I hope I havent disappointed you too often.
I have been blessed and honored to share this with you. Whether I write another Battle For My Wallet or not, I do not know. It's unclear to me whether I should. Or can. It some ways it seems this season of my life is drawing to a close. And so I want to thank you for all the reasons I mentioned above. I really do enjoy and appreciate the words you share with me when you post to my Trip Report.
My Mom and Dad didnt teach me about Jesus. But they did teach me to be grateful. If I say thank you more than the average bear its because it was burned into me not to take anything or anyone for granted. When I became a Dad, I purposed to teach my daughter who Jesus is, so she would choose to follow Him. And I purposed to train her up with a heart of gratitude. I saw that several times during this trip. Which is where you came in.
We left EPCOT right around 5:30 to head south to my sisters house. As Ive written before, I used to get pretty sad leaving Disney World because I wasnt sure when wed be back. Thats a hold-over from being younger. I reckon Im still a little sad to leave but mostly because we spend so much time looking forward to our trip and vacation beats the tar out of work. But I was more grateful than sad this time. It had been a remarkable week. We drove south along the Florida Turnpike and talked for a while about all the things we got to experience, how different it was from the year before, how extraordinary it all was.
Not just our vacation you understand. The whole thing. Our trips to Disney World have become metaphor for the life were living. The changes God has brought since I penned the first Battle For My Wallet are considerable. I look back just four years ago and I can barely digest it all.
If I like to look back, and I do, to see where Ive come from and the changes God has wrought in my life, then I also like to look ahead. To try to imagine what the next few years will hold. To wonder whats next.
That phrase lives in my mind.
I like to imagine the possibilities. Sometimes the path seems obvious. The decision to go to law school was pretty clear. The decision to ask Mrs. Z to marry me. Other times, like now, the road ahead is obscured. So I find myself wondering, whats next? Because its unclear, I have been focusing my attention mainly on the day in front of me. Its whats next. Beyond that is a mystery only God understands. My question then is genuine, not rhetorical. I dont know whats next. Not yet anyway. Sometimes that freaks me out. But right now, Im okay with it. I dont need the full road map. I know Who has it.
As we got closer to my sisters house, the car's air-conditioning was annoying me. My face was cold from it and my contacts were drying out. We rolled down the windows to feel the warm night air and the breeze that comes from going 70 miles an hour. It was refreshing. The humidity. We decided to stop at Cracker Barrel for dinner. Time was, we ate there every Sunday night after church. But now we dont have those where we live; we miss it. My Mom met us there and after a round of kisses, hugs and cheek squeezes, we went inside to find us a table large enough to hold us all. It wasnt very crowded and they seated us quickly. And there we sat, all of us around a big table, eating thick foods and drinking huge glasses of sweet tea. Long after our food was finished, we laughed ourselves hoarse as we usually do when were all together.
The second half of our vacation had begun.
It looked yummy to me.
