Once I had a shiny, new automobile I was thrilled with—at first. A few months later, not so much. It grew fond of dying in an intersection, seeming to enjoy the attention of other cars, whose horns loudly brayed their ridicule as they edged around us.
Eventually Wheels, as I had named her, grew tired of the game and would meekly cough and resume her sedate path homeward. Sometimes she behaved even more erratically: for no apparent reason, she displayed a streak of anger in a fountain of hot water shooting from her radiator.
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I was puzzled; she had always received tender, loving care—Saturday afternoons were spa day, up to and including a cooling spritz of floral-scented air freshener. Why was she becoming so finicky, xo temperamental?
A kind mechanic at the dealership helped me understand her behavior was a cry for help, which I hadn’t understood. Her outbursts of hot water, he said, were her plea for a cooling drink of anti-freeze. And her capricious stops and starts were solved by looking under her hood. A cable was hanging onto the battery by a thread, causing it to become unstable. The battery connections were corroded so her connection to power was corrupted. Simple to fix but unnecessary if she had been properly maintained.
My fault, my responsibility.
Come to think about it, a little like my spiritual life, neglected and ignored, despite my best intentions. Corrosion between my heart and my Source of Power affect my performance—sin is corrosive and divisive, distracting me, separating me from my Heavenly Father. And spending more time reading the Owner’s Manual for my life, living water nourishing my soul—the Holy Bible--should keep me from stalling out in heavy traffic, those urgent times when I feel so out of control. Simple to fix, but requiring my diligent attention, my earnest effort to follow my Lord, my Leader, all the way Home. Effort well rewarded by a smoother path ahead.
Truth? "Wheels" existed only to illustrate an important point, although I did once own a car that spent more time at the shop than its own garage.
Our spiritual growth is at risk when we try to "wing it" instead of daily checking with our Master Mechanic and learning all we can from His Instruction manual. All the info is right there, readily available because He loves each one of us.
I was puzzled; she had always received tender, loving care—Saturday afternoons were spa day, up to and including a cooling spritz of floral-scented air freshener. Why was she becoming so finicky, xo temperamental?
A kind mechanic at the dealership helped me understand her behavior was a cry for help, which I hadn’t understood. Her outbursts of hot water, he said, were her plea for a cooling drink of anti-freeze. And her capricious stops and starts were solved by looking under her hood. A cable was hanging onto the battery by a thread, causing it to become unstable. The battery connections were corroded so her connection to power was corrupted. Simple to fix but unnecessary if she had been properly maintained.
My fault, my responsibility.
Come to think about it, a little like my spiritual life, neglected and ignored, despite my best intentions. Corrosion between my heart and my Source of Power affect my performance—sin is corrosive and divisive, distracting me, separating me from my Heavenly Father. And spending more time reading the Owner’s Manual for my life, living water nourishing my soul—the Holy Bible--should keep me from stalling out in heavy traffic, those urgent times when I feel so out of control. Simple to fix, but requiring my diligent attention, my earnest effort to follow my Lord, my Leader, all the way Home. Effort well rewarded by a smoother path ahead.
Truth? "Wheels" existed only to illustrate an important point, although I did once own a car that spent more time at the shop than its own garage.
Our spiritual growth is at risk when we try to "wing it" instead of daily checking with our Master Mechanic and learning all we can from His Instruction manual. All the info is right there, readily available because He loves each one of us.
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