I, Refugee

Death is not one of the things travelers consider when attending church, right? Not usually, I suppose. Sitting at the front door, we discussed the next steps to take about this trip to Utah. Vacation was not the goal, though this trip would count as one for us anyway. The goal was to go to Utah to attend General Conference for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Looking forward to the journey, as is my custom, I had not taken into consideration the planning that needs to go into taking a road trip, especially a trip involving a vehicle that should never be driven across town, let alone to another state!

During my kid years, my family took multiple trips. Memories of the games we played and the stops we made along the way resurfaced as I sat there discussing at the front door.

Why were we at the front door? Some of us did not want to go. Xavier, my oldest, wanted to stay home and watch Conference on TV like we always did. Never mind that we obtained the tickets from our bishop beforehand to our sessions of Conference. Never mind that I had a ticket for Xavier and myself for the priesthood session of Conference. No, never mind that I told my missionary, Russ, that I was on the way to see him and stay at his house following Conference. Finally, or maybe not finally, never mind that we had packed and loaded the van with plans for the youngest, Miriam, to stay at the home of a friend from church for the few days we were gone. No, never mind all of that!

Afryka, my wife with a bothered expression on her face, sat quietly as the kids debated amongst themselves the efficacy of going on a road trip. We two talked about it prior to this meeting at the door, before the packing, and agreed to go but something came up.

Afryka always thinking of the possibility of something going wrong, the worrier, did not mention she did not want to go on the trip because it felt rushed, rash.

That was likely because of me. Per our conversation earlier, I made it abundantly clear the trip would happen barring the second coming of Christ! (I still might’ve tried to go if that happened--especially since I figure Jesus would appear at Church Headquarters if He came.)

Xavier breathed out acidic horrors in words about the stupidity of going to a place to see a thing that could be seen from our living room. The rest of the Johnson kids, all four others, wanted to go!

At the front door, all packed and ready to go, we decided to say a family prayer about going on the trip, another one! Afryka wanted all of us to receive a "spiritual witness" that it was what God wanted us to do--and by all of us, she meant me.

Yeah, I am going to narrate this tale, a true tale, which I obviously survived to tell. The words will be written from the point of view of Rodric. In other words: I, Rodric write this record.

We had major issues in our family. Though we had saved the money to go on the trip over the course of a few months, the biggest concern was my health. The next concern was leaving my youngest daughter Miriam with friends--something Afryka is not one to do so ordinarily. Van issues were the third major obstacle as stated before.

“What are you feeling about the trip,” I asked each family member. “Who feels that we should go on the trip?” Everyone except Xavier and Afryka raised their hands.

“Who feels that we should not go on the trip?” Xavier alone raised his hand. The decision was made, and we hustled into the van to get our road trip on!

I confess, I made the decision to go already in my soul! God knew that I was going on that trip if I had to drive by myself! Of course, none of my family members were aware of that fact. Well, Afryka said that she knew that if she pushed against the trip that I would go without her. She was right!

Every six months, us members of the Church have a general meeting or conference where we listen to the leaders of our church giving us counsel on how best to live our faith in these troublesome times. As a family, one of our dreams was to attend the actual venue of the Conference together before Xavier turned 18 years old.

God knows Afryka and I figured that he would run as far away from us and the faith at the first chance. Being a Black family raising kids in the Gospel had been no picnic, and we had made some mistakes along the way with the oldest. We made all the mistakes on the oldest!

Besides not agreeing on how to best teach him the lessons of life, we thrusted him into every possible activity. Both coming from single-parent homes, fifteen years of marriage still hadn’t taught us how to agree and compromise optimally.

Afryka and I wanted to make sure that we took the boy to Conference at least once while we could still force him to go with us being that he would turn 18 the following June, it being April when we left on the Utah trip.

I say we, but maybe the forcing part was just me. My son, the strong-willed boy, is my hero because of his willingness to stand up for what he believes, even if it is wrong.

Of Course, I could not ever let on that I did fearing it would have caused more rebellion. In retrospect, I should have praised him a bit more for his free thinking. On that trip, however, the last thing anyone wanted was to hear his free thoughts, which he gladly gave up on each opportunity he could, for the love of silence!

Disagreement and Xavier walked hand in hand on the entire trip to Utah as if they were married and in love. Motivation to stay in Phoenix with his friends was all I heard come out of his mouth when he spoke. Who could blame him? He was a kid, just... he was not a quiet complainer.

Hailing from Phoenix at the time, we commenced a journey to the Conference, which is always in Salt Lake City, Utah. Amid all that planning for this trip, or the lack of planning, something was stewing to prevent us from it.

Not just that trip, but every time we plan a family event there is a hiccup. It was a church event, but it was also our first family vacation a decade. Determined that 2016 would not go by without a family trip, I resolved to take this matter by the horns and wrestle it to the ground until I subdued it!

The first hiccup, besides the whining of Xavier, was the matter of the van’s health. We needed to get one tire fixed. What was the hiccup?

“Well, we don’t have the exact tire that you are needing,” said the technician.

Already behind schedule for the trip because we had to stop and get snacks before we hit the road, we had gone to a 24-hour tire shop. The tire was available at the sister shop location which was closed!

Murmuring in the van began as a small rumble with kids absorbing the disappointing news. It was dark outside, but I wager that Xavier leered in the dark, hoping we would turn around and go home.

“We should just stay home,” he moaned on several occasions since we entered the van. “Why are we trying to do something different?”

“Is there anything that we can do,” Afryka questioned the man ignoring our oldest son’s repeated attempts at hashing things out again.

“There is a tire really close to that type and size that we have. It will work. It just won’t be the same as the others, you know, design. ”

Looking at me for confirmation, I encouraged Afryka to get it. Arizona, already in my rearview mirror at this point in the trip, hiccup or no, we would ride a tireless rim to the Conference if needed!

“Okay,” she said to the worker. “We will take the tire. Could you also check the other tires? We are going to Utah and we want to make sure the wheels are good for traveling.

Now was a fine time to make sure the vehicle was travelworthy. By fine, I mean it should have taken priority before we loaded up the van and headed off to Utah. At this juncture, we had dropped Miriam off at friends’ house, Matthew and Lindy’s. The proverbial (and the real) wheels were set in motion.

In all, nine of us are in the family: Rodric (me), Afryka, Xavier, Naomi, Sariah, Mosiah, Ephraim, Zipporah, and Miriam. Pretty small family to be traveling. Zipporah, the guardian angel, passed away six years prior, but she still tagged along with us, I believe.

In my heart, I prayed a mighty prayer of protection. Though we had prayed as a family before we left the house, to begin with, I felt that the devil did not want us to make the trip. Yes, the devil. Experience has taught me to blame the devil for everything. It makes it easier to feel good about life.

In answer to that first prayer, God revealed to me that we should go on the trip. He also let me know through a feeling that we’d endure some setbacks on the trip, but the experience would be worth the trials. Not understanding that answer, I trusted in the feeling to go and left the rest up to God.

I dared not share the foreboding part of my revelation with Afryka, fearing that she would scrap the trip. I wanted all my family who could go to go with me. Risking going alone was not what I wanted to happen. God promised me in my quick answer from Him also that He would protect my family. That was enough for me.

After a wait that seemed to flow into eternity, the tires were checked and the attendant gave the green light for us to go, saying the tires are all good for travel.

In the back of my mind, a tiny insignificant voice gave me pause about the new tire that was different than the other three, but it was so tiny that the excitement to move forward on the road drowned it out. If all else failed, we had a spare tire—a donut tire. What could go awry?