July 21st, 2004

"And the beat goes on!"

Well what do you know... I made it "home" safely and with no major breakdowns. (Gee, am I calling Branson home already?) My budget for the trip was pretty small so I'm especially grateful to the auto shop who repaired my ignition and then refused to accept a single dollar for their labor. Other than that, the entire trip was smooth and pleasant. Apparently, I'm no longer a "green pea" at RV travel because the journey from Sacramento, California to Branson, Missouri seemed like a short walk in the park. Will wonders never cease!

When I arrived in Branson, George and Joan, the owners of Gerth's Camp Park where I stayed last time I was here, ran to greet me with hugs and welcome homes. The same beautiful, rustic site I had occupied before was vacant and although they had increased their rates during the last two years, they charged me the same amount I paid in 1992; ($200 per month - all utilities included). That was truly a blessing because with gas prices at $2.00 a gallon, I didn't have much money left to last me until I found a job. But thanks to the generosity of George and Joan, I didn't need to dip into the $1,000 I had set aside to buy a car. Dependable transportation was a necessity if I was to find work, so that was chore number one on my "to do" list.

And once again, my heart was warmed at the kindness of others as George and Joan referred me to a mechanic friend of theirs, who it turned out was willing to part with his work car; a little red 1991 Ford Festiva. So, mission accomplished and two new friends made, Mark and Drew. Now... time to find a job.

My first choice was the Fall Creek Steak and Catfish House were I worked last time I was here, so I climbed into my little red car with a heart full of hope and headed for the restaurant. But then something strange happened. When I pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine, a feeling of dread suddenly overcame me. It was so heavy and so uncomfortable that I couldn't even get out of the car for a few minutes. What could be wrong? I just sat there thinking... convincing myself to go inside. Finally, after about 5 minutes, I laughed off my reluctance and headed for the door. But something just didn't feel right. When I walked into the restaurant where I had spent so many hours working just two years ago, I didn't feel like I belonged. I felt uncomfortable, nervous and even strangely sad. It was as though the air was dark and foreboding. I couldn't imagine what was going on so I ignored it and spent a few minutes saying hello to the servers I had once called friends. But that's where it ended. I didn't even fill out an application. The feeling was so overpowering, I simply said my farewells and hurried back to my car. It was funny, but as soon as I pulled away from the restaurant parking lot, I felt a sense of relief. Apparently, the Fall Creek Steakhouse wasn't where I belonged, and if there's one thing I've learned during the last six years on the road, it's to "listen" with my spirit ears.

So now what? I needed a job where I could earn enough money to pay for RV repairs and one that would leave some portion of the year free so I could continue to travel and write. But I had no idea where to begin looking. In a situation like that there's only one thing to do... ask the Lord for help, which is exactly what I did.

And the very next day my prayer was answered. Mark and Drew, the people I bought the car from, dropped by that morning. I gave them a copy of my CD and they offered me a suggestion, "You ought to try the Grand Country Buffet," Drew suggested. Buffet? I know I've only served food for a couple of years off and on now, (which hardly makes me an expert) but I didn't think they even HAD servers at a buffet. How could that be? Well, you'll never know if you don't at least try so that same afternoon I drove to the Grand Country Square and located the restaurant. As I walked though the front door that very first time, the difference was astounding! It was as if I was "home". It felt familiar and comfortable. I felt like I belonged, and that's where I'm working today.

I do have to admit though that my first month on the job (May) was a real killer. Because I've always been fairly slim, sometimes it's hard to tell when I'm out of shape, but going to work at the Grand Country Buffet was definitely a wake up call. My shift began at 1:00 in the afternoon and I seldom finished before 11:00 at night. During that 10+ hour shift, there was only time for one 30 minute break, and sometimes not even that. Every single night of that first week I literally cried tears of pain as I drove home. Muscles I didn't even know I had were screaming at me and I could barely get in and out of the car. Perhaps I had bitten off a little more than I could chew... after all, I'm not exactly a spring chicken anymore. Maybe twelve hours at a steady run was more than I could handle. And the truth is, it WAS... alone anyway. But fortunately, I don't HAVE to handle anything alone. My Lord is always with me and always willing to help me carry the weight.

And that's when my next song began playing in my head as I drove to work. "Dear Heavenly Father, won't you come to work with me today?" It didn't begin as a poem or a song... it was merely my prayer. I knew that I couldn't do it alone, so I prayed for His strength and wisdom, patience and compassion. But most importantly, I prayed that he would allow his Light to shine through me... that I might make my customers feel loved and happy. Not a single day passed that I didn't repeat this prayer on my way to work, and that was how I made it through my shift. By the end of that first month, my body had strengthened and I was no longer in pain. Perhaps being led to such a physically demanding job had actually been a gift in disguise. You know that old saying; "use it or lose it"? Well apparently, I had been losing it. After all, being a poet isn't exactly what you'd call a workout.

And now I have come to love my new job. What greater honor could there be than serving your brothers and sisters? And just think of all the money I'm saving by not having to join a gym.

And so, on that happy note, I shall say farewell for now. Fifty to sixty hours a week doesn't leave much energy for writing but I'll try to occasionally update this journal.

Until then... May the Lord bless and keep you!

Abigayle