I'm not driving.

I remember once, a very long time ago, driving my niece to the play park.  She was young enough to be in a car seat, and although usually happy about riding in the car -- and always happy to be at the park -- she had gotten herself all tangled and upset in the way only a small child can.  Her sweatshirt was half backwards, one shoe had been kicked off, and somehow she'd managed to get part of the seatbelt behind her head and couldn't free herself from it.  She was a mess, and the more she fussed the more of a mess she was and the more of a mess she was the more she fussed.

It struck me then what a metaphor her situation was for my relationship with God.

We were doing something she ordinarily liked to do, and we were going someplace she was going to enjoy.  But no matter how much she fussed or what she did she had no control over where we were going or the route we would take to get there ... all she had any control over was her own state, her own comfort on the ride... and that she had managed to turn upside down and backwards.

I pulled over and got her straightened out, and we went on to a nice afternoon sliding down slides and swinging on swings and sandboxing in sandboxes.

But the image and the metaphor has always stayed with me.

I have no control over the route or the destination -- though based on past experience, when we get where we're going I'm probably going to discover that I like it.  All I have control over is my state as I ride along -- and I can make myself miserable and uncomfortable or I can sit back and observe in wonder the passing scenery.

But regardless of whichever I choose, I'm along for the ride, I'm not driving.

Comments

[Dave]

Nor are you drinking.

Have a superb weekend!

[Any]

This is so useful. Thank you for sharing!