Arriving with you

Everywhere I go, even if it’s with someone else, I typically drive. I volunteer to drive long trips, partly because I’d rather have the riders sit comfortably and not have to worry about the road ahead, but also because I like driving.

I think our loving God allows me to have some of these little silly pleasures. Saying, “Alright, Tony, have your fun. But don’t lose sight of what’s more important.” I know that I like doing this, but it took me a long time to figure out why.

I gave my life to God. I am committed to believe that he should have complete control of my life. It is my desire to honor, worship, obey and adore him. One of my favorite songs has the lyric, “We’re either riders, or fools behind the reigns.” I personally try to hold myself to that standard; I’m not in control, nor should I be.

Driving, however, gives me complete control.

Turn right, turn left, accelerate, brake–whatever I want to do, I can. “This lane is too slow, let me change lanes so that I can speed up. Tired of work? I’d rather keep driving down the 57 to Disneyland than go to work. Traffic? I know an alternate route so that I don’t have to wait too long for it.” (see where I’m going here?)

While I drive, I literally have a hand in contributing to my future. My destiny can be altered by my decisions, my actions and at my will. Power hungry? You bet!

As long as I can separate my passion for driving from my passion for God’s driving, I should be fine.

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While on the topic of using driving as a metaphor to parallel personal spiritual themes, here’s another one:

I used to pride myself in being an observant driver. I usually knew where I was going and was rarely lost. I’ve been humbled a few times when I forget to turn onto a street or even when I mistakenly made a left turn instead of a right. Distractions are usually to blame. I’ve been getting lost lately, discombobulated and confused at where I’m headed.

Somewhat recently, I caused a three mile detour away from Yogurtland because of a wrong turn and headed north instead of south. We were lost for a while but a phone call and a U-turn quickly fixed that. Along the way we got to see nice pretty lake, a sight that we would have not seen if we weren’t lost. But yeah, we saw a lake, whoop-dee-doo. Agreeably not a big deal.

I’m pretty lost right now.

Not in the sense that I need God to find me, or that I made a wrong turn somewhere. But I’m lost because I don’t know where I’m going. I have a general idea of where I’m headed, but the streets aren’t forgiving. God put me here to be lost. I need to be lost so that I am forever searching for him and the truth, forever searching for the narrow path.

Now the questions are: A) Will I be content with being lost? Or B) Will I desperately pray and seek God for the right answers and to enjoy the ride, faithfully waiting and knowing that he loves me and is for me?

The longest answer is usually the right one.

Who knows, maybe I’ll see a pretty lake along the way. Besides, I still got to Yogurtland.

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[We can] talk about the road behind,
how getting lost is not a waste of time.

It’s all for the sake of arriving with you.

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