Driving Senseless

I wouldn’t say I’m the best night-time driver simply because my eyes don’t work as well in the dark. Add a little weather and it is all the more limiting. I’ve heard stories of my parent’s escapades of driving through sand storms when we lived in El Paso, blindly steering the car to a stop only to find as the winds die down a car parked less than ten feet in front of them which had been invisible seconds earlier. Then there’s the story of my sister finding a patch of ice on the interstate. We made several revolutions before coming to rest and managing to miss nearby cars. I was the midnight driver in Colorado trying to make it to a wedding the next day and driving our Texas car with no snow chains over the divide during a February snow storm. We didn’t stay for the reception, already visualizing the drive back. I was the navigator for our Italian vacation. The hotels were perfectly located in the center of town for walking to the sights, but the task of initially driving to the hotel was a challenge I wasn’t sure I could attempt too many times. I rather like adventures, but something about steering a mass of expansive, expensive metal, traveling at any rate of speed, without a clear visual field of direction, no longer feels like an adventure. It feels like danger.

My prayer for the congregation?

Dear God, You have a clear vision of the world. From our vantage point we find natural restrictions and man-made interference that keep us from seeing the complete panorama. For the safety of our companions and ourselves we seek clear directions and unobstructed views. Our congregation is a community in motion, and sometimes it feels like the margin for error is dangerously close. When the view is completely blocked, grant us the wisdom to sit patiently until the hazard passes, but also give us the wisdom and courage to rely on the safety lines in place that allow us to proceed with caution and with diligence. Our church is a precious cargo, one we protect and support, but one that has a destination which is not always in our eyesight. We trust your vision of the world and seek to rely less on our own bearings, and more on your perfect sense of direction. Amen.