Drive it like you stole it!

A few years ago, when most of my kids were still in high school, I bought a sportscar. It wasn't fancy or top of the line, but it was something I had always wanted. I had gotten a promotion and a raise, and that was all the excuse I needed.

It looked fast, but it really wasn't, it was just fast enough for me. It was the perfect shade of yellow and I named her Daisy. I had never officially named a car before, but it almost felt wrong NOT naming her. This was personal. I had never picked anything out with that much value that was solely mine. I had searched for her. I had searched for that color and what kind of stripes she had. She was mine.

Having Daisy made life interesting. I didn't go anywhere in town alone. Apparently, owning a sportscar gets you a personal police car escort anywhere within the city limits. Kind of nerve-racking at first, but I always felt safe. Being challenged to a race also became part of my day-to-day life. It didn't matter where I was - local stop light or out on the interstate - some fancy souped up hot rod would pull up next to Daisy and rev up the engine, wanting me to race. My favorite part was always the look on their face when they realized it was an older woman sitting in the driver's seat... priceless!

I won't say I've never gone over the speed limit, and I can't say that Daisy and I didn't surprise a couple of those fancy hot rods who thought they were so cool, but I can say Daisy was my everyday car and I drove her, for the most part, like my everyday car. And on more than one occasion, my passengers, usually friends and family, would say "Don't you just want to go fast all the time?"

No. The answer was "no." I loved Daisy. She was my sanctuary. When I was having a bad day, I would get in the car and go for a drive in the country. Just me and Daisy and the music going. Or sometimes I would just drive and pray. Daisy was my safe place - away from the house, away from a stressful marriage, away from kids, away from work, away from all those things in my brain telling me I was "less than" I needed to be. Was Daisy capable of going fast? Yes. But that's not what I needed her for.

I thought of that last night as I was driving home from church. On Wednesday nights, a couple of local churches get together and take turns hosting a praise and worship night. It's exactly what a person needs during the week to stay refreshed and mindful of the God we serve.

I say that as I hold myself accountable. Until last night, I hadn't felt refreshed or renewed since I got sick with Covid last month. In the beginning, I blamed it on just being tired all the time, but as time went on, I could feel that all-too-familiar feeling - that dark cloud that hovers over your heart and refuses to let sunshine break through. I would tell myself day after day, it's going to be different today. But in the end, I couldn't find the words to pray, my Bible sat in the same place - collecting dust and sitting down to write for the blog felt like asking me to write a symphony. There were many nights I would crawl into bed and simply apologize to God for failing once again.

I had little slivers of sunshine now and then - but I longed for "the Light." And then, last night happened.

Last night, while I was singing, the cloud lifted. It was like He was standing right there beside me and swiped it away. I knew the moment it happened. There's no mistaking His presence. And my mind flooded with clarity. No more grasping for words of prayer, no more darkness, no more apologizing - only praise. And again, the words, "Here am I, Lord. Send me," echoed over and over in my head.

So, why last night? Why not earlier? Why not during worship on Sunday morning?

I think the answer to that question is different for everyone, but I know how I felt AFTER spending time with Him last night. I walked past my Bible numerous times, but never picked it up. What might have happened had I just opened it? I usually pray before I start a blog. What might have happened had I prayed "Lord, please give me the words to say. Fill my heart with your words and your love." Instead of walking past the computer and thinking - why is this so hard? What might have happened if the guilt and weight of those apologies under the covers were replaced with cries for help. And what might have happened Sunday morning if I had been totally focus on Him instead of being disappointed that I still wasn't strong enough to lift my hands during worship? And until last night, not once, did I ever even consider going to Wednesday night worship during that month of darkness.

God didn't change... I did.

It wasn't until I set myself aside and put Him first that the darkness lifted. I reached out to Him - He was always there. Our Heavenly Father never changes. He loves us no matter what season we are in. If we are praising from the mountain tops, He is there. If we are struggling from the valley, He is there. If we are fighting a battle, He is there. He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. His love is never ending.

And on the way home, I thought of Daisy. Much like our Heavenly Father, she never changed. Nestled in the garage, she was always capable of the same tasks, always ready to give it her all or go for a drive in the country. She never changed - how I chose to drive her did. I could accept a challenge and race her down the highway or I could pray and cry driving through the country. Either way, Daisy was always the same car when I parked her in the garage every night. Nothing about her ever changed, how I treated her changed.

I miss Daisy often - wish she was still in the garage. I miss our drives in the country. I even miss the occasional hot rod showing off at the stop light. The regular escort to Walmart... not so much!

1 Chronicles 16:34 ESV

Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; for His steadfast love endures forever!