Backseat Driving

The other night we were leaving my grandma's house after a Christmas celebration. She lives out in the country, and the weather was quite treacherous, with worse fog than any I have ever seen (even in Florida). To make it worse, her entire driveway was a sheet of ice, and to get to the road from her driveway, we had to drive uphill. With five people crowded into my mom's little Nissan Maxima, our car didn't stand a chance. No matter how much my dad accelerated, the car just slid backward and to the side, fishtailing and threatening to send us off the road and into the snow. As soon as the trouble started, I was insistent that we just get out of the car and stay the night at my grandma's house to wait for the ice to melt a little and the fog to let up. Soon, however, my uncle and cousin were standing alongside our car, pushing in hopes of helping us get onto the street. This was especially frightening - a several-thousand pound automobile, sliding uncontrollably with two men standing alongside on the slippery ice. At once, my cousin lost his footing, almost sliding under the car. I screamed, sure that our car would run over him. It didn't, thankfully, and with another shove and some acceleration, we finally made it onto the road. This wasn't the end of the danger, however. Driving through the country, my dad had to have my brother look out the passenger side window to ensure that the car was still on the road due to the thick fog. The entire time, I watched from the back seat, cringing at the sight of oncoming headlights, worrying that the next turn or stop would cause us to crash.

I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be as a child before God, comparing it to my own childhood trust of my dad, and analyzing where the breakdown was - when I became aware that my earthly father was fallible and my well-being could possibly be out of his control. As a kid in his car, before I learned how to drive, I was just along for the ride. Never thought about how we would get to the destination, or asked "what if?" - What if the tire blew? What if he fell asleep at the wheel? What if he lost control of the car? It was only later, after getting into a car accident with him, that I began to doubt his ability to get me from point A to B safely. If the traffic was clear and the weather was good, then I didn't give it a second thought. But the moment that the variables changed, there I was, watching every move, making sure that he didn't do anything that might cause an accident or endanger our lives.

Being a child before God is going back to the realization that my Dad is one who cannot fail. There is NO possibility of Him losing control of my life, or of my existence being threatened when I'm in his hands. He's the best at EVERYTHING. In some ways, I still feel that way about my earthly father - he's the best preacher, the best guitar player, the best counselor. But being a child before God is knowing, with complete certainty and trust, that He is THE man. The strongest. The best. The most able. And a life lived with Him is a life of freedom in knowing that, in His hands, I am safe. I love Romans 8:15-17 in the Message Bible:

This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike "What's next, Papa?" God's Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children.

The life I long to have is a thrilling one- trusting God through the unknown, the ups and downs, the ins and outs. Like a little child in her dad's arms, being thrown in the air or turned upside down... that lump-in-the-throat, heart-racing, giggling in expectation feeling, knowing that however he throws you or tosses you or turns you, he's gonna catch you. He always has, he always will. Because he's dad. And that's what dads do.

Change

Monday I was sitting at the volunteer desk at the church, doing my weekly Monday duties, and the Aftercare assistant for City of Life Christian Academy walked a line of four year olds to the bathrooms for a restroom break. I was sitting, half-listening to the madness that IS this time of the day (and secretly thinking, "Wow I'm glad I'm not teaching anymore!") when I heard the following exchange:

Assistant: Line up, guys. You (points to kid) be the line leader.

Four year old: But I'm the line leader!! Why does she get to be the line leader?

Assistant: Because sometimes we need change. It helps us grow inside.


At first I laughed, because that was a pretty cute way to break it down for a four year old. But then I realized - I need the reason for change explained to me on a four-year-old level too!!