Celebrating My Car

I jumped into my car after my weekly breakfast meeting with a dear friend. And I found myself loving my car. What a brilliant invention! What a terrific ministry resource. What a dependable (if dirty) friend.

My car has helped me think through my sermons, served as sacred space for prayer, calmed my nerves before a funeral or wedding or baptism.

My car has taken me to many hospitals, where I've prayed with people before they undergo surgery, or face chemo or radiation therapies, or slowly recover from another bout with a chronic illness.

I am a nervous pastor; I want to do a good job but worry I won't. My car is the space where I lift my spirits, encourage myself, remind myself that I am a vehicle for the Spirit not the Spirit herself.

My car lives for me in much the same way I live for Christ. Sometimes lights behind the dashboard come on reminding me that the oil needs checking, my fuel is low, my emissions system is out of whack. In my car, warning lights appear on my soul too. "Stop worrying, start trusting!" "You are not alone: 'I am with you always even until the end of time!'" Apology in order! Overdue for a visit with this or that parishioner.

How can I not love my car? Her name is Frodo and she has carried me on many adventures. Like the trips I've taken with a friend to our Spiritual Direction retreats, another sacred space where we speak of our lives--our hurts, fears and confusion and our love of the Holy.

My car loves music. It plays each day I'm in it. Brad Paisley's "5th Gear," or Dan Wilson's "Free Life," or James Taylor's "October Road," everything by The River's Voice and a thousand other songs. I sing in my loudest voice, allowing tension to ooze out my car doors.

In my car, I've heard about great books which I now read on my birthday "Kindle." I've listened to experts speak of world hunger, the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, the health care bills in the house and senate, an interview and sing-along with Joan Baez and "Speaking of Faith" with Krista Tippet whose words go directly to my heart--"do not pass go or collect your $200."

Today I appreciated and honored and expressed gratitude for my car. I know the brakes may fail tomorrow or the transmission might go. But for today, I love my car; I really love my car.