the spiceBox
by Sharon Robertson, Lt. Colonel –
Just the two of us were in the car—God and I, all alone, together. It was wonderful! It always is, though I must admit he can be a bit of a nag sometimes, reminding me of things I’d just as soon forget.
I do love a drive through our beautiful countryside, alone with God. Sometimes we ride quietly, just sharing the stillness. About the only time I turn on the radio is at Christmas time, when familiar carols are playing, and I can sing along. I love to sing, though the only one who really seems to enjoy hearing me is God (something about not being able to sing in any key compatible with the human ear). So alone in the car, just God and I, I sing, and although I keep my eyes on the road and the scenery, I get the feeling he is smiling as he listens.
At other times we just talk, though mostly it’s me talking, and he listens. I tend to start out with gripes and complaints, enlarging on the daily irritations and frustrations of being an older adult who is continually discovering things she can no longer easily accomplish. I hate that! The weeds in the yard keep on growing, weed-killer or no, and the carpet keeps collecting—well, you know the kind of stuff a carpet can collect when you come in from the yard tracking all sorts of things, not to mention the gobs of fur and other I-wish-unidentifiable stains two cats contribute.
What a relief, just to climb into the car and spend some time just enjoying focusing on what he has to offer—green field, splashed with multicolored patterns of wildflowers; the birds singing in the trees, inviting you to roll down the window and thrill to sounds of the natural world; even the sudden onset of a brisk shower making rivulets of water on the windshield. I find myself relaxing, just letting God bless me. He speaks, and, oh, how blessed I am! He reminds me just who he truly is, and of his eternal plans for his world. He assures me that no matter what disappointments or fears or frustrations, what sadness or even rage I may experience in trying to understand a world seemingly in chaos, he is God, and I can trust him to accomplish his purposes.
In those moments when I drive alone with God, I find my spirit overwhelmed with joy, and a blessed peace of heart and mind. I begin to realize my place in his scheme, to understand how much I am—we are—like Abraham, dwelling by faith as sojourners in the land.
By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.
By faith Abraham, even though he was past age—and Sarah herself was barren—was enabled to become a father because he considered him faithful who had made the promise. And so from this one man, and he as good as dead, came descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as countless as the sand on the seashore.
All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them (Heb. 11:8-16 NIV).
And so, born tourist that I am at heart, I can relax and find delight and purpose in the journey, just letting God bless me.