Jesus, take the wheel

Several years ago, my best friend and I attended a cooking class in a town about 60 miles away. These little adventures meant a lot to us. I had small children and rarely got away for “fun” and her schedule was constantly filled with the duties of a pastor’s wife. I can’t remember the exact date, but I remember it was winter, around the holidays, and it had been one of those years when we had been blessed with exceptionally warm weather, even that late in the year.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t remember a single thing about the class, but the rest of the day is etched permanently in my brain. We arrived in town early, on purpose, to eat lunch. McCook was home to one of our favorite places to eat. We ate lunch and then we headed off to class, which was to fill the rest of our day.

As we were parking the car, Joyce and I both made a comment about how cold it had gotten since we left that morning. We even joked about not bringing winter coats. That evening, the class finished, and we walked outside to find a full-blown winter scene – complete with a blizzard.

If that happened today, we would just dig out our cellphones, check the weather, and make some calls to let people know what was going on. But we didn’t have that option. This was before the luxury of cellphones. And we both had commitments in church the next morning. Should we stay in McCook? Should we try to drive home? There’s really no place to stop between here and there if we change our minds.

Joyce had driven and I was not comfortable driving in the blizzard, I didn’t know the route well enough. So, I left the decision up to her. If she wanted to stay, I was okay with that. If she felt comfortable driving in the blizzard, I would support her in that decision too. She decided we should try to drive home. So, we buckled up, said a prayer, and headed for home.

It didn’t take long before we knew this wasn’t going to be an easy trip. It was dark, it was nearly whiteout conditions, and the route is full of hills and curves – and apparently, we were the only ones that were brave enough to try driving through it! We also knew it had been a mistake to not tell anyone we were on the road. I can say, with all honesty, that that is the longest I have ever prayed out loud with so much sincerity and intension. Joyce drove us home and I prayed us home. And for most of it, my eyes were closed. I just couldn’t watch. I don’t know how she did it – it had to be Jesus – because every time I opened my eyes, fear over-took me. So, I would close my eyes and focus on praying.

Several times throughout the night, she would say, “Kent is going to be so worried.” And I would remind her that he’ll be so happy when she finally walks through the door. And he was – more than four hours later.

The next morning in church, he used us as an example of something in his sermon. I don’t remember the exact content or quote, but I do remember the words – “kind of like two seemingly intelligent women driving a Miata through a snowstorm.” Yes… we did all of that in Joyce’s little Miata. Probably not our finest moment, but certainly one I’ll never forget.

I told you this story because I needed an example of imperfection – of honest Christian imperfection. We all have it. Just because we follow Christ does not mean we don’t make mistakes. We are human, just like everyone else. You don’t become FLAWLESS just because you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior.

I heard someone on a podcast I was listening to say, "the only true Christian in this world died on the cross." I had to really think about that. In one aspect, I see the speaker’s perspective. When someone proclaims to be Christian that means they are following God’s word – to its fullest extent. That means they ARE loving others, forgiving others, fulfilling the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

But that leaves little room for grace - maybe no room for mercy. Jesus walked the earth, fully man and fully God, to save the lost and heal the broken. And He’s still saving and healing today. John 9: 1-3 tells the story of Jesus and His disciples passing by a man blind from birth. And his disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him.

If we go with the podcast speaker's theory, then why should we even try to do any of those things? Why try to love the unlovable? Why try to forgive? Why try to obtain the fruits of the spirit? It's like telling a child he'll always be worthless.

Jesus came for ALL of us. The blind man in John 9 was not a follower of Jesus, he did not know He was the Messiah, yet Jesus healed him anyway “that the works of God might be displayed.” Jesus was physically showing them that He was there for ALL of them.

I believe He eagerly awaits the opportunity “to display the works of God.” Actually, I believe He displays them daily in our lives and we’ve become blind to all He does for us. Not everything is as obvious as steering you through a blizzard, but they are there, if only we choose to look for them.

So, are we perfect? Of course not. There was only one example of perfection on this earth, and He died so that we may strive to tell others of His grace and His mercy for ALL. And my goal for the New Year is to enter every day with a purpose… that I may see the works of God displayed.

John 10:10 ESV

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.