And He Drives With Me
Driving terrified me as a teen. I grew up in a town population 6,000, where the Main Street drag had three stoplights and a bridge. It scared me, especially during rush hour. I was terrified of having a wreck and hurting someone. As a result, I avoided driving whenever possible.
When I met my Richard, I was 24 and was still scared of driving in Evansville, with a metro population of 342,000. Richard pushed me behind the wheel and helped me conquer that fear of driving, or at least learn to compensate for it. But I still don’t enjoy driving in larger cities and only do so when I have to. It’s scariest when I’m driving my own kids in a larger city.
This past weekend, my daughter Elizabeth had a speech demo contest in Indianapolis, and I drove. Richard stayed home to work and to tend our new brood of chickens. When I drive in bigger cities, I drive my children up the car wall, because I have a running conversation with Jesus. If I need to change lanes, I ask Him to help me see cars so I do it alright. When I need to find a sign for an exit, I ask Him to help me see it. When I leave on the exit and have to merge into traffic on another road, the kids hear, “Jesus, we need to get onto that road and need enough space for our car. Help me see where to go and give us room to merge.” Then, when the merge is complete, my kids hear, “Thank you Jesus. Another one down.”
When my son Nick rides shotgun, he will tell me traffic is not that bad and I can handle it. He tells me the merge lanes are always clear. I tell him it’s because I’m asking Jesus to guide me every mile marker through the city.
We do okay in the cities unless I take a wrong road. Unfortunately, that what happened Saturday morning on our way to Elizabeth's contest. The real trouble came when I tried to instinctively correct my mistake. Never trust the navigation instincts of a lady who has opened the bottom of every box instead of the top for 40 years and who usually walks in the exits of buildings and out the entrances. Poor Nick, my helper, tried to keep up with me on a map.
Finally, I pulled into a McDonald’s and cried. I called Richard, who was getting ready to work. “I’m in a McDonald’s, I don’t know where, and Elizabeth’s supposed to be at contest registration in 25 minutes.” In a few moments, we found our location on the map. I had gone the exact wrong direction for 15 minutes. Richard whipped up a map on the Internet and told me the route to take. I tossed the phone to Elizabeth in the backseat and began our race across Indianapolis.
“Lord, this time, we’ve got a boatload of stoplights. Please give us enough time so she won’t be late.” Elizabeth listened to Richard’s directions and called out the big intersections, which Nick followed on the map. Our tag-team navigation continued for the 15 minutes. We drove straight to the fairgrounds, parked near the front, and raced to the registration building. Elizabeth arrived with two minutes to spare.
That evening, I tried the route I had royally blundered that morning and drove without a mishap.
We had to return the next morning. When I sat in the driver’s seat, I paused, wondering whether to try my direct route again or drive a lot longer, on a safer route to avoid getting lost. Nick, my 13-year-old navigator, calmly told me, “You can take the shorter route and not get lost this time. We’ll be fine.” As we were about to pull out, Richard called me.
One of our new hens had laid our first egg. Wow! I stopped the car, jumped out and yelled to our friends plus my kids, “We got our first egg!” Again, my teens shook their heads at their impulsive mother.
This time, we made the right turns and arrived 30 minutes early. We had no problems when we left that day and returned home. As usual, riding with Mom was an adventure my teens won’t forget.
As we drove home, I thanked God for giving me a family that helps me slog through adventures. Then I thought of that song, “In the Garden.” So many have sung the lines, “And He walks with me and He talks with me.” I have to trust in the Lord when I drive in big cities, to lean on Him instead of my own understanding or navigational sense. My prayer is when my kids see me chatting with Jesus during those commutes they see my walk with the Lord ... as He not only walks and talks with me but drives with me in big cities ... whether they have three stoplights or over 1 million people. He gets us to the contest on time.
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” 2 Timothy 4:7
*This article first published on August 17, 2009
Copyright 2009 by Mary Biever. All rights reserved. Permission must be granted for reproduction or use in publication.
Originally published August 17, 2009.
