I knew she wasn’t long for my world.
We’re finally putting Beastie out of her misery. Donating her to an organization that wants to practice car repairs. It’s all she’s good for now.
I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my little blue Corolla. She’s been a faithful vehicle. Getting me from point A to point B successfully.
Car years must be different than people years. More like dog years. She looks to be 80 instead of thirteen.
She was good looking with low mileage when we got her. A spry four-year-old in people years. She was the newest car we’d had in a long while.
Her age began to be an issue. Peeling paint. Broken off door handle. She shook as if she had Parkinson’s.
All good things come to an end. I’ve been whiney about driving a derelict for a bit. Not really complaining, but letting my husband know this was not a sustainable ride.
She doesn’t shimmy down the road.
I was terrified the first time I drove her. It’s been awhile since I drove something that looked this good. Not making jokes about my Florida-sunburned car. Or that she could Zumba better than me. I just knew I was going to be in an accident. I parked so far out in the parking lot no one would even consider pulling in next to me.
No bumps. No dings. No problem.
There was something about driving Beastie that took away a lot of pressure.
My Christian life is like this. Being a follower of Jesus, I have a new life. A redeemed life. The old life has passed away.
That’s how God sees it.
For me, the old way of life–doing things to please me, satisfy my agenda–is not so much gone. Just on the back burner.
I don’t have to live that way anymore. I’ve got the power of the risen Jesus living in me. And he allows me to do things with a new perspective.
When I choose to follow Him.
In reality, my old life was comfortable. Full of dings from bad choices, scrapes from pushing my way too often. Paint was chipping because of not living the way I was made to live.
I default to the old me. A lot. Where bad attitudes, snarky comments and entitled behavior define me more than the redeemed person Jesus has made me.
What’s so appealing about the old me? The new me is more content, hopeful and focused on what counts.
The old me is comfortable. A known quantity. I slip into her like my hand in a comfortable glove. The new me requires diligence, alertness, recognition that I can’t pull this life off by myself.
Jesus gets that. He’s the One who provided this new me, this new vehicle for doing life.
And if I get a ding? Or in an accident with the new me?
He’s the best insurance policy for hope and heaven anyone could ask for.