“You canceled my ticket to hell – that’s not my destination!” Psalm 16.9
I defined success yesterday by whether I picked up Cherry’s new car. Target time early afternoon, destination Dunstable.
I’ve never been to Dunstable. On the map Dunstable is near Luton, only I have never been to Luton. A quick check on the British Railways website confirmed no trains to Dunstable; Luton with a transfer.
The first stage was simple. Train from the office to Charing Cross. Simple because I go home that way everyday. The next stage was a bit more difficult; catch the tube from Charing Cross to St. Pancras. Two wrong turns later, I ended up on the right train, or did I?
One unexpected tube transfer and two more stops brought me to the right spot. I scrambled up the steps into the crisp sunlight. Confident of my new station I headed for the ticket information. When is the next train to Luton?
“Three o’clock, I recommend you use the Kings Cross Thameslink Station. Out the door, turn left, you will not miss it.”
Really?
Out the door, turn left, and I see the Kings Cross Main Station. Again, full of confidence, I head to the Ticket. Queuing, I realize I have a train pass that could have value. Producing the ticket, I ask for a supplemental one-way to Luton. Seven pounds ninety.
“Where does the train leave from?”
“Kings Cross Thameslink Station. Out the door, turn left, 200 yards.”
Out the door, 200 yards, and yes there is the station he described. Through the turnstiles; right up to the TV monitor. The next train leaves in one minute!
Running for Track B, I see the train’s tail quickly leaving. The next train is for Bedford, and, oh wait, it stops in Luton. As I run back to the TV, I realize my new train arrives in one minute.
Collapsing into a seat, sweating in the freezing air, I find myself on “my” train, destination Luton.
Do I try this hard for life’s train? What’s my destination? God punched my ticket?
