I was just running errands.
I was on my way from Walmart to Taco Bell, to be precise. My Taco Bell lunch order was set, the boys were waiting at home, and I just needed to swing through the drive through, pick up their grilled cheese burritos and be on my way.
But my boys never got their grilled cheese burriots. I never made it to Taco Bell. I ended up screeching over the sidewalk and coming face to face with our Scooter’s sign instead. I didn’t expect my day to go this way when that guy turned into my vehicle as I was just cruising on down main street. I was unhurt – and the Scooter sign was unharmed as well. All in all – it could have been much worse.
But the car … that old car that has carried us more miles than I can count. That old car was not fine. This story isn’t really about someone hitting me while I was on my way to Taco Bell. This story is about that old car.
That 23 year old car with 265,000 miles on it. When we got the call from the insurance company that they were totalling the vehicle, we weren’t surprised.
A couple days later, as we went to clean it out so they could haul it away, I found myself unexpectedly tearful. We grew up in that car – our life as a family was built in that car … and it may just be earth-stuff, but it held alot of memories.
In those heart palpitating moments following the discovery that I was carrying our first child … we realized we needed a “family car”- one that would be safe, dependable, and have room for all the gear that comes with children. A “grown up” car. This was it – and we were elated when we found it.
Each of our 3 children came home from the hospital in this car when they were born. I think of that holy space – filled with such awe, wonder, terror, curiosity, insecurity… and all the times God came through in their lives (and ours).
While cleaning out the car one last time, I found this petrified chicken nugget under a seat and chuckled as I thought of all those drives throughout this country and the rich memories, sibling squabbles, loud music, Veggietale videos, and answered prayers that we experienced while fueled by chicken nuggets and coffee.
There’s the armrest my restless son peeled away on one of those drives that would never end..
There’s our 2015 parking pass for our favorite amusement park – a place that has been a thread of continuity in our lives since before we were married..
There’s the spot under our car that got ripped up by a stray “rez dog” when we lived in Arizona – his nick name “Butcher the meat eater” fit him well, and one day he decided to see what “meat” he could find tucked in that space under our car. (it may have had something to do with a bird we hit earlier that day … I can’t blame him that much, after all)
Then I see this – the sticker that has marked our family for decades: “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord”… and I marvel at the over-arching banner of the goodness of God.
Because the whole time I’m going through this beautiful old car, the song on repeat in my head declares this truth: “all my life you have been faithful. All my life you have been so, so good. With every breath that I am able, I will sing of the goodness of God”.
Let’s be honest – not everything feels good. In the midst of all the beautiful memories also came the flood of those tearful, fearful moments. There was the drive home from the doctor’s visit where we were told that our baby (in utero) had “anomolies” and they didn’t have answers for his future (or ours).
There was the day after he was born when we were told he would need surgery at 3 days old – and we had decisons to make that we didn’t know how to make. We retreated to the only safe and familiar space we knew – this car – and we sat and cried out to God for help.
There was the late night race to the hospital while holding my son years later while he was in respiratory distress and having a seizure… crying out again to God for his life.
There were long drives in painful silence – so filled with anxiety and confusion and discouragement that we didn’t even know how to talk to each other. Looking back, I see how God was there in the middle, holding each of us together – even when we couldn’t see it at the time.
As I write the words, the memories keep flooding, piling up on each other like a torrent. I won’t take you down every trail with me, as I think we all have more to do with our day than just camp in my memories. But my eyes fill with tears as I sit here in wonder.
Yesterday I read these words in God’s Book:
“In a desert land He found him,
in a barren and howling waste.
He shielded him and cared for him;
He guarded him as the apple of His eye,
like an eagle that stirs up its nest
and hovers over its young,
that spreads its wings to catch them
and carries them aloft.
The Lord alone led him…” Deuteronomy 32:10-12
I was sad to say goodbye to this old car – but more than that, I was overwhelmed by the story it told.
It is a story of God’s faithfulness in the joyful, victorious times, and in the darkest and discouraging days. As I walked through the memories and all the changing seasons of our life as a family, I found myself in that moment seeing and savoring the truth that our God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. (Hebrews 13:8)
It’s just an old car. It may just be earth-stuff. But it held alot of memories. And those memories matter. They are our “stones of remembrance” on which God writes His story in our lives. In his final address to the people of Israel, Moses entreats them to “be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them.” (Deuteronmy 4:9)
Maybe today is the day to walk down memory lane a bit. Rejoice and laugh over the beautiful, the silly, the unexpected … and even in the sorrows and the tears, remember how your God has walked with you. How He has found you in the wilderness, and guarded you as the apple of His eye.
And I return to the song as I head into the rest of this day: “All my life you have been faithful. All my life you have been so, so good. With every breath that I am able – I will sing of the goodness of God”
