AND IT CAME TO PASS
As I stared out the rear window of the bus, I thought, 'What if I
die? This may be my last night ever.'
At the last minute, we decided to take an all-night bus through the
Peruvian Andes down to the coast. Now I was being driven over high
mountain passes and on winding, too-narrow and (I was certain)
unsafe roads. We live in the Rocky Mountains of western United
States. But still I was not prepared for roads too narrow for
on-coming traffic to pass by. Every time another vehicle hurled
toward us, one of us was forced to pull over and let the other by.
Nor was I ready for the supersonic speeds at which our bus rollicked
around hairpin curves, or an all-night white-knuckle ride on a
too-often unpaved shoulder-less mountain road carved out of the side
of sheer vertical slopes lost in clouds. And I wasn't ready to die -
at least not that particular night.
I thought that maybe I could sleep during the trip, but all the
anxiety of what reminded me of an out of control amusement park ride
kept me staring out into the night as if by sheer will power I could
keep the bus upright. 'What if we crash?' I thought, and began to
count all the possible ways this bus would slide off the
mountainside. I worried about the driver, who was apparently working
a 12-hour shift. What if he fell asleep? My mind was just too filled