That's My bug!

When I was a child, one of my aunts drove a little Volkswagen Beetle. I thought it was so cool! It was baby blue with a moon roof and she called it "Bippy." Bippy was special. Bippy wasn't just special because she had an awesome name... no, Bippy was special because everyone knew her name. My aunt wasn't the only one who called her by name - EVERYONE called her by name. That little, baby blue bug was known by name everywhere she went.

My uncle may have come from the farm, but he met a city girl. And somehow the rest of us all lucked out and he convinced her to leave the city and come to rural America and bring Bippy with her. It's funny... somehow in my mind I can't separate the three. They belong together. There is no description for my uncle. His heart is as big as they come, but it is guarded in humor and smiles. My aunt is the epitome of emotional support and care, wrapped in laughter and wit. They make the perfect pair. I love them dearly. And Bippy fit the family like a glove.

When I was in my early 20's and newly married, I received a phone call from my aunt saying my uncle was cleaning out their barn and he wanted Bippy to "go." I was shocked. In my years of being disconnected from the family after the violence, I had fallen out of the loop. I didn't realize Bippy had been retired to the barn. I didn't know she was sitting in the hay and the dust. And then I heard the words. "Would you want her?"

Me and Bippy... together? Was this for real? You know when you're a little kid and you're playing 'house' and you pretend you're driving somewhere? I used to pretend I was driving Bippy! It's just make-believe and you know it's just make-believe, but it doesn't stop you from dreaming. Well... my dream was coming true!

I was like a little kid! I drove that little, baby blue bug with pride. I remember once I gave my mom a ride to town in Bippy and she complained for the entire 8 mile trip. She didn't trust me driving a manual transmission, she didn't like how small it was, she thought it sounded like a sewing machine - the list just kept going. But it was one of the few times her complaints didn't bother me. I didn't care. I loved Bippy.

Then, one weekend, I was going to help a friend move, and I took the backseat out of Bippy, so I could lay the back flat. I set the backseat under the stairwell of our apartment building and when I went to put it back in, it was gone. So, from that moment on, Bippy was a two-seater.

A few years later when baby #1 came along, we decided Bippy and her two seats didn't make much sense for our growing family and, with my aunt's permission, I sold her. I cried. As much as I knew it didn't make sense to keep her, I loved that car. I loved the memories that car held. It wasn't just my memories, it was a whole families' worth of memories. It was the names my uncle used to call us as we played softball in our grandparent's yard. It was the sarcasm that rolled off my aunt's tongue without thought that would fill a room with laughter. It was the way they poked fun at each other, but somehow you knew they were crazy about each other.

Isn't it silly how we associate all that into something as simple as a car? Maybe it wasn't the car I was afraid of giving up? Maybe there was a part of me that was afraid if Bippy disappeared so would my memories.

It was a time in my life when I was trying so hard to let go of so many things, so many bad things, bad memories. And I think there was a part of me that was afraid. What if I start letting go and it ALL goes? What if I can't sort out the good from the bad? What if somewhere along the way I let go of the bad memories and some of the good ones accidentally disappear too? What if...

What if WHAT? I think we play the "what if" game with God a lot. At least I do, especially when things start spinning out of control. But isn't that when we're supposed to trust Him? Isn't that when we're supposed to hand Him all our burdens... give Him control?

I feel like I'm constantly reminding myself of that. My life is so much better when I hand Him the reigns, but it's a conscious decision everyday. Maybe someday it will just come naturally, but I'm thinking He wants me to make that daily choice. He wants to know I choose Him.

I think we are to get up every day and say, "Thank you for being the God that accepts me everyday for who I am. Today I ask you to guide my thoughts and direct my path. Lord, today I choose you."

And in the darkest of moments, when the world was spinning out of control and I handed every burden to Him, He sorted my messy pile of memories as only He could do. He unlocked them all so He could help me deal with the bad and the He polished the good, so they would shine and glow in the dark. Easily seen when I need them most.

Every nickname my uncle ever uttered is firmly engraved and my aunt's humor is a superpower few on this earth possess... and I wish I got to hear it more often. And Bippy's little sewing machine engine will never be forgotten. I can't believe I thought those memories would vanish.

And as I learn to let Him guide my thoughts and direct my path, my "what if's" are mostly, "What if I let Him do more?" "What if I let Him use ALL of me, instead of SOME of me?"

What if?

Psalm 138:7 ESV

Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the wrath of my enemies, and your right hand delivers me.