Something in my car sounds like it’s about to fall apart. It’s really an awful sound. However, it’s not constant, so when it stops I pretend like it’s gone away for good and somehow my car has magically fixed itself.
I have tried to ignore it, but I just can’t anymore. People are looking and grabbing their children as I pull into the parking lot. So, I guess I’m going to have to take my car in to the car doctor.
Now, maybe you’re reading this and thinking I’m crazy because what kind of person drives a car when she knows there’s something wrong with it. That might even be considered criminal, but I don’t think I’m so far off from how most people handle spiritual matters.
We notice things. Thoughts skitter across our consciousness. Nagging feelings tell us something’s not quite right. But we ignore all of it. If it’s not making a constant noise in our life, we don’t deal with it.
As much as I want to get in my car and pretend that it’s great, there’s still a part of me that knows the truth—the facts. There’s some scary sound that occurs after I’ve been driving for a little bit. Just because it’s not there on short trips around town doesn’t dismiss its existence.
Now remember the time you wondered about that incredible sunset? Or that magnificent storm? And how about the feeling that gripped you as you watched NCIS and were reminded that death comes to all of us? What about that impression you sometimes have that something is missing?
I think we hear a thousand rattles and warning sounds throughout life, and we tend to ignore them—pretend they aren’t anything big, that our life is fine, that we don’t need anything else. But eventually, it all catches up with us. Eventually we can’t deny the facts.
Something is missing.
Those feelings and thoughts and things we noticed point to something—to someone.
I’ve been handling my car problems the way a lot of people handle spiritual stuff. By avoiding and hoping for the best. That approach isn’t really working for my car though. I’m going to have to face the facts sooner or later. Fortunately for me, there’s a clear cut diagnosis and something that can be fixed. I don’t have to drive around pretending everything’s okay because it can be. And that’s true of life too.
There is a clear cut diagnosis for that thing you keep ignoring. There’s something to fill that hole you keep covering up.
We were meant to live for more. There’s a reason why you noticed that sunset—why the thought of death scares you.
You are created in the image of God and loved dearly You have a hope and a future. God loves you. He wants to have a relationship with you. He does exist. And maybe it seems less scary to ignore all of that, but that’s not really living.
The best is yet to come.
PS – I did get my car fixed! Silly Calipers.