I remember the first moment I got behind the wheel of a car like it was yesterday. Partly because my little cousins remind me of it every time I see them and partly because it's kind of funny in a humiliating way.
I think it was probably a year or so before I was allowed to get my permit and my dad learned to drive early so he thought he'd keep the tradition alive. I'm sitting in the driver's seat on a random afternoon, fiddling with the mirrors and I can hardly contain my excitement - I get the privilege of pulling the car into the garage. My dad stands next to the door in the garage and he's directing me to where I need to go, instructing me on how to avoid hitting the sides of the garage and not to pull the wheel too hard. This nervous, jittery thrill pulsed through my veins and I honestly wasn't listening to a word he said because I just wanted to pull into the garage. He said, "Ok now I want you to let the emergency brake down and take your foot off the brake." The moment had come. I did what I was told and listened to what he said next. "You did it?" (insert eager shake of the head). "Good job. Now I want you to press the gas and then--" and then he was laid out on the hood of my car. He was laid out on the hood of my car because I hit him with it. I hit him with it because I laid my foot down on the gas. Luckily, when I hit him I slammed on the brakes and didn't run through the front door of my house. He lived. And he was lucky because I didn't hit the house (But no worries, several years later I would actually hit the house). My history of wrecking things doesn't end there. I catch kitchen equipment on fire. I spill my lunch trays on my friends as I'm sitting down to eat. And thats only if I'm lucky enough to avoid dropping them on the lunchroom floor on the way to my seat, because yes, I am that person, and yes, custodians hated me in elementary school. In all honesty, I'm a mess. and so is my life. and so is my bedroom. I'm a walking, talking tornado. And if you ask my mom, I do a crappy job at cleaning up what I destroy in my wake. And there are moments through the midst of all of these messes, that usually end up with my face beet red and flustered, that I question whether or not I am chosen. Why would a perfect, Holy God choose someone so small as me? Why would He want to pay attention to a 17-year old girl who has no plans for her future, no extraordinary hobbies, no winning smile? In these moments, like David, I wonder, "Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?" --Psalm 13:1–2 For how long, Father will I feel like a failure? And so I start talking to my parents. I start reading my Bible. I start scouring over my most-trusted blog favorites and I start praying. And as I scramble for answers, for a reason to keep on messing things up, just as I begin to feel like I am going to drown in the chaos of my furious storm, just as the waves come crashing onto my boat, just as I begin to panic, He goes, "You of so little faith, why are you so afraid?" And then I feel God's calm cover my storm, just as He did the disciples' storm in Matthew 8:23-27. He covers it in little things, like an A on my report card. Or a smile from a stranger. Or a really funny movie. And sometimes it's as simple as being able to get up when my alarm goes off. He counsels me in the middle of my confusion and doubt. And I will rejoice in my Lord always. We are chosen despite our messes. And He uses our messes to remind us and others of His perfection. Because even though I might never know how to properly use a microwave, my spirit will forever be fed by my Provider. And even though there are moments that I wonder how on His beautiful green Earth I passed the drivers' test, His guiding hand will never leave my side. So don't you ever forget that He will never leave yours. “You have made known to me the path of life; you fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand" --Psalm 16:11 If you're like me, don't quit making messes. Well, learn from my mistake and don't hit your house with a car. But don't be afraid to be who you are because The Lord is going to glorify Himself through your life so long as you say, "I do". Ps. Honda the Honda Accord (I'm creative at coming up with names) is still going strong. Her white (from the house) and crimson (from my friend's car) (yes, I've hit more than simply my dad and my house) scars brighten up her gold paint. We've lived a happy and adventurous 6 months together.
1 Comment
Robert McMillan
6/28/2016 06:03:50 am
And then through all the so called "failures" and messes and doubts you have made a father proud to say that you are his daughter. Every day I thank God for you and all your messes. God says that "My power is made perfect in weakness." He is truly doing an awesome work in you.
Reply
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
noteThank you for allowing me to share my journey with Christ with you. I am not always right, and I do not hold all of the world's answers, but my prayer is that you will find some peace in knowing that we're on this journey together- and that Jesus is guiding us home. Archives
September 2018
|