Thanks to an airline shuffle of flight times, our original plan for transportation from the riverboat to the airport was no longer feasible. The provided group option by bus from the cruise port would depart too late for us now. A concierge on the riverboat advised that we should take an Uber rather than a taxi van she was arranging for others with early flights because the driver wouldn’t leave until the van was full, which could briefly delay its departure. She had been in the profession long enough to know that someone in the group almost always runs a little late. Minutes can be precious in an airport so we followed her advice. In fact, me being an Uber novice, one of her colleagues used my phone to make the reservation for us. Talk about service!
The app used the official address of the cruise port as the pick-up point, but we were actually disembarking about two blocks from that address. So, as we’d been encouraged to do, we asked a staff member on the dock where the Uber pickup point was. He thought for a moment and then pointed toward the destination two blocks up. With that advice, off we went, suitcases in tow.
When we arrived, the supposed sign that indicated Uber pickups was nowhere to be seen. A police officer on site asked if we needed help. He confirmed the street address of our location, which was exactly where we thought we needed to be. Only there was no sign of cars, taxis, or people departing the terminal. Something didn’t seem right; but the crew member had directed us there. The police officer had verified the address. Surely they knew the ins and outs of this sort of thing. They do it all the time. We were a few minutes early, so we waited.
Even so, something felt off. My gut had its doubts about the situation. Over the years, I’ve learned it is a trusty guide most of the time. Oh, it exaggerates the depth of my hunger and it is a bit skittish on icy roads, but overall, I have learned to ignore it at my own peril. I felt an urge to return to where we began but waited a while longer.
About two minutes before pick up time, our driver called to let us know he was pulling into the parking lot. Only, he was nowhere to be seen! From the app, I could see that he and we were in different places — about two blocks apart. The map indicated that he was in front of our ship, right by the point where the crew member had sent us off toward our current location. I really wanted to give a that person a piece of my mind when we returned but some would suggest I really don’t have any to spare. Plus, I had more pressing concerns – hustling back to the lot within the allowed window for the pickup.
We made it. No harm, no foul. A nice well-kept Lexus awaited as our chariot. As predicted, a half-full taxi van sat beside it, with fellow travelers anxiously waiting for enough passengers to leave.
Enroute to the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport our driver shared bits of his journey that had brought him from an African country to the U.S. He described the life he had achieved here. He expressed genuine gratitude for the opportunities afforded him in this country. He surprised me at the end of his story. From out of nowhere, he referenced the story of the widow of Zarephath in I Kings 17 of the Old Testament.
During a time of drought, a certain widowed mother struggled to make ends meet and care for her son. Things were so desperate she planned to make a final meal with the meager resources remaining in her jars and then brace herself for starvation. Despite having hardly any flour or oil, at his request she made bread for the prophet Elijah was enduring his own time of need. The prophet blessed the woman for her actions, and as a result she always had enough flour and oil to provide for their needs for the duration of the drought. Our driver said, “That’s the story of my life. I am blessed that way. I always have enough.” He had learned there was more to life than the pursuit of profit.
In recent years “enough” has become one of my favorite concepts. It is part of what allowed me to retire years early. I had never consciously adopted “more” as part of my life’s ambition but it influenced my work ethic just the same. When “enough” replaced “more” as my goal, it became apparent that it was okay to step away. Interestingly enough, in these retirement years I have helped a number of individuals with their finances. My goal is to help them have “enough.” They get to define what enough is. We will then try to develop a strategy to accomplish that aim; but if their goal is simply to have more, then we’re not a good match. I tell them that upfront. Greed is a hard urge to resist. Enough rather than more is contrary to most every message that influences our culture. But try anyway. It is worth the effort. There is much to be said for the power of enough.
“I always have enough,” our driver said. Before my brain had a chance to evaluate whether it would be an appropriate response, my mouth announced, “Well, it helps to know the right prophet, doesn’t it?”
In retrospect, though impulsive and uncritiqued, I stand by that response. What are prophets except individuals who think they’ve been granted a glimpse of the truth and now have an urgent responsibility to convey messages that direct people to where they want or need to be? (Granted, it is usually about more important things than where to wait for an Uber.)
Generally, there is no shortage of “authorities” dispensing advice in the orbits of our lives – how to live, whom to accept, whom to oppose, how to be successful. Prophets. Preachers. Coaches. Counselors. We could develop a lengthy list. And of course, according to many of these good-intentioned advice givers, it is always God’s or the universe’s desire that we prosper and flourish under the right direction. (Even though some degree of suffering seems to be built into the system, which is a thought for another day).
Sometimes this guidance is solicited; but often it is not. From TV channels to social media news feeds, I don’t know if reporting was ever objective, but these days it is difficult to find resources without excessive biases. Everyone may be entitled to their own opinion, but which advice is trustworthy? How do we know whose direction to heed? What source can be trusted, especially when one conflicts with the other?
Ancient prophets earned their reputations by their success rate, or because those who heard or who now read them trust the tradition dispensing the message even if the jury is still out on the proclamation. In contrast, modern day prophets often haven’t had the opportunity to be time-tested or community-vetted. My gut tells me that anyone who desires to be a prophet probably has no business claiming to be one. Self-proclaimed prophets often use the label as a mantle to gain attention and be taken seriously. Intending to tell the truth starts simply enough. But as Deuteronomy advises, we who hear can’t know the legitimacy of the prophet in advance.
The work of a prophet is difficult enough, but it is even more so for the audience than the speaker. We on the receiving end have decisions to make. What do we choose, especially when the decision must be made without the luxury of time, research, and reflection? The staff member who sent me on a two-block march away from my starting point had the credentials. He acted as though he knew the truth. He said he knew the answer I was seeking. I suspect he thought we was correct (at least I hope he did!). And, with a schedule to keep, I believed. The police officer gave correct information, but it was still the wrong answer. He did his job admirably well, but had I stayed there after learning more, I would have still missed my ride. No one wants to discover they’ve been waiting on the wrong corner.
At the end of the day, those wearing or claiming the title of prophet don’t speak simply to hear the sound of their own voices. They seek to influence and persuade. How and for what purposes? Often to stir listeners to action. In the days of old it seemed to be things like peace, justice, or repentance. These days, those who seek to influence have far less noble intentions, often with the implication that “insiders” are entitled to “more” at the expense of others. The insatiable quest for more propels all manner of greed and eventually evil, whereas “enough” allows space for God’s work to more easily minister to us all.
I think that is why I like the story about the widow and also of the Uber driver. They recognized that “more” had a capped upside. They were satisfied with enough. If they are to be believed, enough can make the difference between provision and starvation, between life and death even. Now that is a prophet who gets my respect. Being content with “enough” is often easier said than done. It really does help to know the right prophet.
