My broken down car

I’ve been driving around Dallas in a beaten up car. My dashboard lights don’t work. The radio doesn’t work.   The grill fell off.  The front side is dented. The hood requires two people to open and close. I can only use my key to unlock the passenger side and my wipers didn’t work until recently. The car is starting to make the same funny noises as my little niece. Just like me, the thing is a piece of work. Chicks dig the fact that I was a hedge fund analyst. They have a different reaction when they see my car.

I like having an old car though. I like not being afraid to back up into a tree or brush against some brush. My friends tell me that I should never take a girl on a date in that car. I see it as a bit of a test though. If they like me when I’m rich, will they like me when I’m poor? Should I pretend to have a flawless exterior?

Eight years ago I prayed that God would take my world apart and do whatever He needed to do in me. He answered that prayer better than I would have hoped and worse than I could have imagined. Sometimes, I think the car is a reflection of my heart. There are bruises and scars. There are places that don’t function as they should. There is plenty of stuff that needs to change and many more things that need to be fixed.

There is one good thing about that car. It has a really good engine. I hope that one day the same can be said about me.

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him. By his wounds, we have been made whole. – Isaiah 53:5

Category: Gallery, Musings