On road trips, are you an uptight passenger? I’m the worst. This summer I have confidently driven around both South Dakota and Texas. I love exploring the unknown for pure pleasure or for college visits. It’s a gift to spend one-on-one time with our children. And it’s also a gift to drive a rental that requires drivers to be at least 25 years old. At least that’s a gift to me.
However, even a short trip down the mountain in the passenger seat can stress me out. Then, last week, we were all five in the car with Will driving on a unknown street and hit a bump so fast that we were momentarily airborne. We were only on that street because of a missed turn. Hilariously a few hours later, after dinner, Will missed the turn again. Fortunately, the second time around we did not get air. One “Duke Boy” demonstration annually is enough.
It’s torture for my sons to drive, but my eyes are just too dang old to do really long stretches. Sometimes I have to use them, and then my “pro tips” hardly cease.
Set the cruise for 72 and don’t touch it…Well, don’t sit next to this truck…slow down for this curve…get past this nitwit…don’t touch the radio…don’t look at your watch…now it’s sprinkling, 72 is too fast.
I’m insufferable. Thankfully, I have often told my sons we are to love everybody always. Maybe that’s how they stay sane. Maybe in their mind they are just meditating on “Love everybody always,” and that’s how they mostly keep from lashing out at me.
Since fear isn’t necessarily predictable, I have no fear of flying. Other than maybe the first few days of “15 days to slow the spread,” I also have enjoyed a sense of peace about Covid. It’s not that I don’t think I could die on a plane or from Covid — more that I like my chances. If I’m in that statistically unlikely group destined to die, well then “To live is Christ, to die is gain.”
Why can’t I have that peace in the passenger seat? I guess partly it’s that I don’t like my chances as much. The other part is that my sense of control is outsized. It’s almost as if I believe that if I’m behind the wheel I can ensure safety. It’s silly. Downright stupid really.
What’s worse is that I struggle with feelings of disdain for the silliness of others. I need to be more sympathetic for those who are terrified by the media or of cancel mobs, or just of death in general.
The truth is that, in my heart of hearts, I know it is the Lord who orders our steps. It is the Lord who numbers our days. Why I systematically forget when I climb into the passenger seat, I cannot explain. I need, by God’s mercy, to do better. I’ve got to.
Where are you pretending to be in control? How can you live more surrendered?
“A man’s steps are from the Lord; how then can man understand his way?”
Have a wonderful weekend, trusting that our steps are from the Lord.