By
Danielle Ripley-Burgess © 2011
My
hands gripped the steering wheel, fingers fitting right back into the
comfortable grooves.
Although
it was the fourth time I’d experienced a “no driving allowed” season, finally
getting behind the wheel once again never grew old. A rush of freedom and
empowerment swept over me. The options of paved paths to follow felt too
numerous to count.
I
started the car and the engine hummed. I slowly pulled out and headed down the
road on my four-mile journey toward the video store for the important task of
returning a rental. My trip was short. The scar running the length of my
abdomen, still covered by steri strips, couldn’t take more than a few minutes
in the driver’s seat.
Although
the initial independence felt great, I couldn’t stop the thoughts creeping in
about the previous two weeks. Emotions came and went as the cars driving next
to me did. I felt stunned that
surgery had become a way of life. Sad at the
loss of future life. Thankful for the removal of cancer threats. Grateful the
surgery went so well. Expectant to return to normal soon. Lured by feelings of
victimization. Tempted to shut down and lose the faith.
I
arrived at my destination, dropped off the movie and headed back to the car to
return home. It was amazing how wiped out I was just by the small trek to the
store. Or maybe it wasn’t the trek at all but the reflections behind the wheel.
God always had a way of getting my attention and making me think while driving.
With
just a few yards to go, I stopped at the last stoplight before home only to see
a woman and a teenage boy standing at the corner to my right. The boy was
tightly holding a walking stick that he tapped all around the corner while the
woman stood behind him and talked firmly. He was blind and she was helping him
navigate his way through downtown. And then it hit me.
I
worship a God who once made a boy just like that see. However, the boy to my
right would probably never experience that same miracle of sight told in the
Bible. Not to mention the freedom and independence I had just regained of
driving a car. However, he wasn’t letting the disappointment of a “miracle
life” stop him. He had chosen to learn to walk around the city despite his
circumstances, despite the fact he may never “see” the world for himself.
As
the light turned green I drove away and couldn’t get the image of the blind boy
and his walking stick out of my mind. I realized I too needed to press on
despite my less-than-ideal circumstances and flood of emotions. Sure, life had
thrown me curve balls. Sure, things were hard. However, to experience the life
God intended for me, I needed to follow the boy’s example and pick up my head,
hold firm to my guide and trust that the small voice behind me will carry me
through. After all, it had already led me back behind the wheel.
No comments:
Post a Comment