of the scenery and being on vacation we see from a distance what our life has become. It’s a time of reflection.
A short few days ago we headed out
from our lovely room at a residence up in the mountains of Portugal, Quinta do
Silval. A quinta is a Portuguese winery
where they grow grapes that are used to make port wine. We were planning to spend the day in Porto, a
city on the coast of Portugal, where port wine is collected and shipped all
around the world. It’s where the Douro
River meets the sea. It’s a beautiful
city and we had a wonderful day visiting the city. We had a lovely dinner along the riverside, a
short trip up the river in a boat to see the 6 amazing bridges. Portugal does
seem to have an edge on the engineering of amazing bridges and roadways through
the mountains! We tasted some delicious
port wine at two different “Quintas”, delicious and sweet.Our drive back to our hotel at the Quinta was completely uneventful or so it seemed. We were getting closer to the area we knew was near the hotel and I had turned on the GPS to help us navigate back to our beautiful place. The girl on the GPS cheerfully said, “You will arrive at 8:15 PM, you are on the shortest route!”
“Okay!” I thought, “Let’s Go!”
So we headed toward a town we had not been through before, Sabrosa. I was pretty sure we would intersect with another highway we were familiar with, but oh, how wrong was I!
We proceeded to follow the route. The road began to become narrower and narrower. The town of Sabrosa was a mere 2 or 3 houses and a bar. There were tables and chairs set up in the road for the bar as it was a beautiful evening and locals were outside enjoying a drink. The servers moved the chairs and tables out of the way so we could pass.
My husband said to me, “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”
“I think so… that’s what the phone says…”
So we proceeded. The road we were on appeared to be disappearing even as we drove along it. The GPS girl maintained her positive attitude, however, as she enthusiastically told us, “Turn left…turn left! Sharp turn to the left!”
All the while we were slowly going down the mountain on what appeared to be farm roads used only by tractors tending to the vineyard. We slowly traveled downward on one particularly rough cobblestone road that seemed to be heading straight DOWN.
As we approached the bottom of what appeared to be the end of the road, the friendly GPS blurted, “Make a sharp left!”
We were literally in the middle of nowhere. Dusk had settled in and it was so hard to see. The road ahead of us seemed to drop off of the mountain and the road to the left (sharp left) was a severe steep “trail” leading nowhere.
Suddenly my husband stopped the car and announced,
“I’m done.”
“What do you mean, you’re done?”
“I can’t do this!” he said, defeated.
I suddenly felt those creepy fingers of anxiety crawl up my spine and grab my heart.
“What do you mean, exactly?”
“I can’t DO it! We’re stuck!”
My strong reasonable and constantly reliable husband was frozen with fear.
“What do you think we should do? Can’t we just keep going? The GPS says we should be at our destination in only 8 minutes.”
“I’m DONE! You need to call the hotel and have them come and get us! Call the police! I AM DONE!”
In a bit of a panic, myself, I comply not knowing exactly what to say the people at the hotel, because I have no idea where we are exactly…”Yeah, we’re stuck on the mountain in the valley someplace? I don’t know exactly? What should we do?” Not to mention, I don’t speak Portuguese either.
NO ANSWER at the hotel. No idea how to call the police either. PANIC.
But I KNEW…I felt that strong deep sense of honesty in my soul…the only way we could get out of this valley was to PUSH forward, little by little. I knew it in my heart even as I felt the complete TERROR of the fear my husband was experiencing.
So I said I was getting out of the car to see exactly how steep it was and what the road looked like. It didn’t look good. But I said to him calmly, “We have to keep going.”
By now it was completely dark, and I mean DARK. There are no streetlights in the Vale de Mendiz. We are between two mountains on a tiny cobblestone road, dare I say, path? Both of us are riddled with anxiety and fear of the unknown. I say calmly, hoping Doug takes this well…
“We can’t just stay here all night. Don’t you think it would be better to just continue on slowly, carefully and see where we end up? I’ll drive if you can’t do this. I think it’s our only solution…move forward slowly.”
I’m sure it was my offer to drive that did the trick. He wasn’t about to let me practice driving a stick shift down a 45-degree incline in the dark on a mountain. So we got back into the car and headed down slowly…inch by inch…almost step-by-step into the sea of darkness all around us.
We moved forward painfully slowly, turning at each turn, following the cheery voice of the GPS…”Turn right, turn left.” Bumpy cobblestone roads and the gravel under our tires were the only sounds we heard as we proceeded forward carefully, cautiously.
Suddenly we finally hit a stretch of smooth pavement, a REAL road!
“Sigh…”
Both of us let a large amount of air out of our lungs…we didn’t realize we’d been holding our breaths. Even though the pavement was smooth, we still had a ways to go. Slowly and cautiously we inched our way through a town called Vale de Mendiz, then the road began heading uphill…out of the valley. We began to feel a bit better, hopeful at last that we were making some headway.
I said a quick prayer silently, of thankfulness. The GPS was correct after all.
Doug wasn’t so kind to the GPS. He blamed the whole fiasco on the GPS. In fact, after the ordeal was over and we were safely back in our hotel, with no visible signs of injury, just emotional fatigue and a need for a glass of wine and a few deep breaths, he typed out a text to our children saying that the GPS nearly killed us on a mountain in Portugal. Needless to say, they were all concerned and responded with many questions. So I grabbed his phone and typed them a message to reassure them.
“Everything is fine, GPS knew exactly where we were every single minute!”
The weird thing was, the phone auto corrected “GPS” to “GOD”. So the message they received was,
“Everything is fine, GOD knew exactly where we were every single minute!”
And I believe that He did! I don’t think we were ever in any incredible danger, but FEAR can paralyze you and prevent you from moving ahead. We needed to move on anyway. I believe GOD was there, pushing us forward.
Doug says to remind him if he ever gets “stuck” again, all I will have to say is, “Vale de Mendiz!”
The very next day as we drove past the mountains in which we felt we were lost, we could see how each road carefully turned on brought us safely down to the lowest point of the valley and then, gently and carefully lifted us back out. The roads form a kind of zigzag through it all crisscrossing across the mountains. It was breathtaking to see how it looks during the day with full sun. It is beautiful. You can see each turn and slope for what it is.
In the dark, it all feels so different. You can’t see where you are, where you’ve been or where you’re headed…it’s dark, scary and uncertain.
In the light, you see, you choose which way to go because you SEE.
In the dark you must learn to trust the path before you, knowing it is laid out for you in some sort of master plan. TRUST.
This is a very important and mind blowing idea. The path is there in the light or in the darkness. Sometimes, most all times, we just need to keep pushing forward.
“God is light, in Him there is no darkness at all.”- John 1:1
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