Family vacation was always a highlight of the year for my family. My dad planned and prepared all year to make each vacation something special for us. He had a big bucket that we would save our change in all year, and then we would count it before each trip. It was always so exciting watching our bucket of change grow throughout the year.
One particular summer when I was around 8 or 9 years old, our family was going to take a road trip from our home in California up through Oregon and Washington and then take a ferry boat into Canada. Traveling through each state was so exciting. There were so many sights we had never seen before, and experiencing the new places was such a highlight for us. As we arrived at the hotel in Washington where we would be staying for the night, we had to park in a very large parking garage. It had at least 10 floors that you could park on and take to many different shops, eateries, and hotels. We spent the night there, and the next morning we began to head out into the big parking garage to find our car. My brother, Tim, had the wonderful idea of racing to the elevator that we had taken the night before. Of course, I was not one to let a challenge go unmet, so I said, “You’re on!” I remember carrying my little red suitcase that said, “Going to grandmas” and was determined to beat my brother. Sure enough, I took off as fast as I could go, cutting in and out of parked cars to make my way to the elevator. I arrived at the elevator and put my suitcase down and sat on it as I waited for my brother. I was so excited that I had beaten him and was ready to rub it in his face. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, I realized that my brother and the rest of my family must have gone a different direction. What started out as glee in my heart immediately turned to fear. I was lost and alone in a huge parking lot and couldn’t find my family anywhere. I began to cry and yell out for my parents; but to my dismay, no answer came. The Lord sent a sweet little old lady my way and she asked me if she could help me find my parents. She helped calm my nerves and told me everything would be okay. You see, I was crying so much and yelling so loud that I couldn’t hear what was going on around me. As soon as I was quiet and called out, “Daddy,” I heard the most glorious sound ever—“TABITHA, I CAN HEAR YOU.” As soon as I heard my daddy’s voice, I knew I would be okay. The kind lady was able to yell back what floor we were on, and within a few moments my family was running towards me and picked me up in their arms, and I was safe!
So many times in our lives as we go through trials and difficult situations, we panic and can’t hear the voice of our Father speaking to us. Just like when I was lost in the parking garage and couldn’t hear my father’s voice until I became very quiet and listened. I don’t know what you are going through in your life, but I can assure you that when you become still and listen, you can hear our Father speaking.
Share this post
Tabitha (Trieber) Fanara has worked alongside her husband, principal of NVBS, for nearly 15 years. She grew up at North Valley as a pastor’s kid and has seen ministry from all sides. The Fanaras have four wonderful children. Mrs. Fanara also oversees the nursery department at NVBC.