Yesterday, driving around through the snow, I realized that there will most likely be no snow on the ground when I get back to Tacoma. This is sad.
Earlier in my trip home, Christina picked me up in a borrowed 4WD, and it was fantastic. You could climb a mountain in that thing! We, however, merely drove to Chick-fil-a. There was this guy shoveling all the snow out of his driveway onto the main road, though. We crossed that pile, but it was more of a large hill. Okay, a small hill. As we drove, I started to trying to tell her how much fun driving in snow has been. I started saying something about our breed: "Midwest girls, we just..." and she burst in: "we are the STUFF!" I heartily agree.
My sisters all live within a few streets of each other, but those streets have been covered with snow for quite some time now. Driving with Amy, we would turn onto her street and kind of head straight for the lightpole and then turn just in time. Then, we almost kissed the bush near her driveway, but yet again the nose of the car got pushed toward the basketball hoop and pulled back into perfect alignment with the garage door. When you have peace, slip-sliding like that can actually be quite fun. I wish I could count how many angels there are around the Midwest during winter. In fact, I felt like our car was less of a vehicle and more of a ping pong ball, just getting tossed from angel to angel. Perfectly safe, but not in control.
Yesterday an emergency run to the store was needed just as a storm hit. Elizabeth, the kiddos, and myself had just returned home from the doctor and we needed Pedialyte. When you need Pedialyte, you need Pedialyte, so I headed out a few minutes after the snow started. It took me almost 40 minutes to get to Target (whoa!) but I made it there and back and had fun doing it. You haven't experienced Midwest driving until you've started to fishtail in slush as an oncoming car gets closer and closer. You straighten out (hehe, get straightened out by that angel who is concerning you), and breathe thankfulness as your tires finally grip something. Then you (well, at least I) smile.
A while ago, someone gave me an encouragement from the Lord that He was going to take me into an understanding of and affection for the part of His heart that loves adventure. At the time, I had no idea what it meant. I mean, no idea. Adventure? Fun, Lord! I guess that's, um, cool. But did you see? I have all these other pressing questions -- honestly my heart wondered why, of all things, He chose adventure to speak to.
I've thought about it since moving to Tacoma, though. Adventure. It's like the word itself is made of mountains. Adventure! God loves adventure; He made adventure; He made me to love adventure. (Are you allowed to put 3 semi-colons in a sentence?) Moving to Tacoma is the biggest, newest, boldest, hardest thing I've ever done. Guess what it's full of? Adventure. It is one big adventure.
I've come to learn that adventure throws off all the fetters of control. When you climb a mountain, there's a point where it's doubtful whether or not you can even make your legs move or your lungs breathe, much less prevent an avalanche. When you go on an adventure with God, you learn that everything goes wrong if you try to take charge. When you decide that you're willing to put everything on the line to obey Him, you find the eye of the storm. Perfectly safe, but not in control.
So whether I'm driving in the snow or finding my footing in a new city, adventure is the name of the game. I'm glad that God has much higher visibility than I do. I don't have to know anything, because He knows everything. Trust me, if you're willing to give everything of you to obey Jesus, you are going to be on some pretty grand adventures. If you find yourself slip-sliding around in a car but an ear-to-ear smile on your face, I think you're seeing that part of you that's made in God's image, loving adventure right along with Him. Sit in peace and enjoy the ride.
***
If you actually ever do find yourself fishtailing and don't know what to do, turn your steering wheel (gently) in the direction your back tires are skidding. If you're like me, your driver's ed teacher told you "steer in the direction of the skid" but never gave you a definition of what that meant. Now you know. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment