Saturday, June 13, 2009

Are we there yet?

We are all familiar with that well worn question kids ask when they're taken on a long trip and they'll sequestered to the back seat (You know - anything longer than 15 minutes). As a Christian, I sometimes ask that question of God about my journey.

Well, we're not there yet. Along this road so far I've seen a ton of other cars, Some seem to be heading in the same direction I'm going and some in the complete opposite direction. Some follow the traffic laws and some don't. Beautiful new cars, old cars, big cars, small cars, trucks and motorcycles.

Ever so often you see someone broken down on the side of the road. The guy is leaning up against his car with his cell phone up to his ear. I guess he's asking for someone to come and get him or at least come give him some help. I still have the pulling in my heart to pull over and offer my help (I know little to nothing about cars, so all I'd be able to do is give him a ride or keep him company until help arrives). In life we see people broken down on the side of the road and we all think that someone else will come along and help the poor guy. We also remember what our parents told us about the dangers of picking up strangers on the road. True. In life when we stop to help a stranger we can be hurt by them. A lot of times we pass them up because we're on our way to somewhere where we "can't" be late...busy, busy, busy; Oh my, look at the time! But what about the possibility that the guy can't reach anybody on his cell and he's really stuck? What a joy it would be to be that guy's saving grace...There but for the grace of God...

On the road we see people driving fancy expensive cars - the rich and too comfortable. They're zooming along, oblivious to the world around them because they're talking on their cell phones. They're drifting in and out of their lane. Sometimes they're so distracted they start slowing down and that clogs up traffic. Distractions do that to us. They miss their turns, run red lights, and sometimes crash into other cars on the road of life.

We'll see people in old clunkers, huffing and puffing it along. They're doing the best they can with what God gave them. Some of them don't care that they can only afford a clunker. What is more important is in the seats beside and behind them. They'll be the ones who'll stop to help the broken down cars. They'll be the one's who'll let some guy merge into traffic in front of him, instead of pretending they can't see him. They're in no great hurry because they know that the destination is sure and they won't be late.

As I go along this life, I'm constantly having to pull out my road map. It seems the roads can be confusing. Traffic patterns change. I try to be like the driver of the clunker. Take my time, be respectful of other drivers, be helpful to the guys broken down and try to remember those riding with me are more important than what I'm riding in.

Just a thought - Jesus is NOT my co-pilot, I wouldn't want to fly this plane and be responsible for it. It's all His. That's comforting.

2 comments:

CFHusband said...

good post!

the new header is awesome!

Irma said...

Sooooo not the point of your post...or maybe it is.

About fifteen years ago, my brother and I left the big city lights of Calgary one evening for my home deep in the Rockies, just as the sun was fading from the sky. It was dark, dark, dark, when suddenly my headlights caught a young woman by the side of the highway, frantically waving her arms. I pulled over as quickly as I could, and my brother leapt from my car.

The young woman threw her arms aroung his neck saying, "Thank you, thank you, we have been here waving for half an hour and no one would stop!"

The young girls has hit an elk, which died on impact. Their car was written off completely, they couldn't drive, couldn't manage the twenty kilometres to the next phone.

Standing by the side of the road, waving.

Waiting for someone to help them.

And no, I don't feel like my brother and I were "like Jesus" when we stopped to help. But at the same time, isn't it truly these small gestures that add up to a life of service? Don't the least of our gestures get added to the Final Measure before the Lord?

We stopped that night because it was the right thing to do. I felt good about it then, I feel good about it now. God called us to help our fellow man, it wasn't dramatic or exciting or thrilling. It was just RIGHT.

May He lead all of us to listen to the quiet voices in our hearts...