“Expect the unexpected,” is what my husband and I often said when we planned an RV trip. We learned that you never know what faces you down the road towing a travel trailer or driving a motor home. On our very first RV excursion in the early 1980s with an ancient Airstream trailer, we discovered we didn’t have enough sewer and water hose connections. We had to go get what we needed when we could have been enjoying ourselves.

Through the years, there was always something to add to the “unexpected” list. One time our truck died just as we arrived at our destination. That meant a tow for repairs. Although it was still under warranty, it took us months to recoup the repair costs.

Another time we didn’t even get out of our driveway when my husband found an electrical system problem. It delayed our departure several hours while he and a friend finally resolved the problem.

Several weeks ago as I rolled down the highway anticipating a reunion with friends at Tannehill Historic State Park, I pushed away any “expect the unexpected” thoughts. Actually, I found myself singing songs of praise to my Lord, secure in the knowledge that only God and I could hear them. I sang loud and as always off-key, happily counting my blessings. When I pulled in at the Tannehill country store to register for a campsite, a friend greeted me. She remarked that she smelled something hot. We discovered the odor was coming from the left front tire on my motor home. The hubcap was extremely hot. After I drove to my campsite, several friends came to help. One even went to his rig and got some knee pads so he could crawl under the RV to see if he could find the problem. Another, bless him, hooked up my water, electricity, and sewer connections.

Although it was late in the afternoon, I called my roadside service. The next morning, a technician arrived. When he removed the hub cap, he laughed and pointed to a big spider web between it and the tire. “This couldn’t have been very hot. It didn’t burn this up,” he said. He diagnosed the problem and fixed it. “You should have no problem with this returning home,” he assured me when he finished.

Inside the motor home, more “unexpecteds” occurred. I couldn’t get the slide-out to work. The lights above the bathroom sink wouldn’t come on. Again a friend came to my rescue. The slide-out button worked for him. He replaced the bathroom light switch and wouldn’t let me pay him for the switch or his labor.

A camper who had just pulled into a campsite graciously offered to disconnect my water, sewer and electricity the day I left Tannehill. I accepted his offer and thanked him profusely. It was another “unexpected,” adding to the reason for more of my loud, off-key songs of praise on the way home. You know, sometimes the unexpected isn’t all bad.