Mile after mile. Four people in a Ford.
Often you could find me ticking off the exits on an atlas. (Even then, I needed to know my place in the world.)
But there were also hours upon hours of car games, singing, caring for dolls, naps, and just laying back watching the sky surround us.
My feet are on the dashboard. Toes tapping to James Taylor. Or The Beatles. Or an 80s pop mix where he quizzes me on band names while we ride.
I had been used to driving myself along these roads. Now I am a wife. And a passenger. I learn to relax and pass the time unconcerned with traffic and other drivers and the gas light.
But it’s not a natural reaction. Letting myself be led. Accepting there is more than one way to get from Point A to Point B. Forgiving the passing up of the parking spot I would have selected.
Not being in control.
I awake every morning this week with Tim McGraw on my mind. “No other shotgun rider beside me singing to the radio.”
He wrote it as a love song. I hear it as a daily reminder of my positioning on this planet.
Stay in the shotgun seat, Beth.
No need to grab the wheel. I’ve got this covered.
Bridges. Tunnels. Mountain passes.
Snow. Ice. Rain. Tornado-like winds.
We travel together.
Some trust in chariots and some in horses,
but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. (Psalm 20:7)
I return each Sabbath for a fresh Word of the Week. For the God-breathed pages to come alive in a phrase or two on which to spend a 7-day feast. To meditate upon. To use as a jumping off point for whatever other words God would have me hear during the week. I would love for you to join the Word of the Week (WOW) discussion by adding your selected verse to the comments … or reflections on any scripture reading.
Linking with Unforced Rhythms — a wonderful community of writers who gather each Monday to share with you HERE.