There is no feeling quite as fulfilling as the moment you stand in front of where your car was once parked, and the realization of your unfortunate automotive fate washes over you like a displaced muddy puddle spewed onto an unassuming pedestrian by a large, daunting semi- truck.
Even though I knew my car had been towed, for some reason I still insisted on searching the entire parking lot to make sure that some mischievous citizen hadn't moved it on me as some sort of whimsical prank. After a thorough scan of the lot, I began to feverishly search in trees, in sewers, under park benches, and a variety of other dubious locations; in order to be completely scrupulous of course.
So after driving to the sovereignty of orphaned vehicles, waking the ominous "Keeper of the Cars", and paying the ludicrous $170 fee, I made my way back home.
Today, in mutiny against the absurd towing situation still lingering in my head, I decided to try and ride my bike $170 worth. I wasn't quite sure how much riding would equal such an amount, but I was determined to give it a shot.
I began down the same route that I took for my commute to work on Tuesday, but today with the intention of exploration. It is absolutely remarkable how many things one can miss when traveling solely for purposes of a destination. On numerous occasions during this trip of revolt, I veered from the beaten path to investigate what hid behind the tree line. I found myself laying in the grass, watching the light bounce off the water, and listening earnestly for any audible signs of civilization, only to be met with the sweet silence of the wind.
As a laid there, soaking in the sacred stillness around me, I couldn't help but think of the pace of life I normally maintain and how out of rhythm it feels to live as such. Are we truly meant to function with a stride of constant calendar reminders, programmatic obligations, and schedule adherence? Is it possible that we have functioned at far too fast a momentum, with far too much allegiance to that structure, for far too long? Under such a system, we seem to be left with no option but to crave, even covet convenience and accessibility with the highest of exertion, for this becomes our only reprieve. We cannot afford to explore the scenery that hides to the left and to the right of our daily paths, because that would disrupt the balance of what we've created.
I read an article about the growing issue of methadrone (not to be confused with methadone) addiction among young people in Britain. This drug, once used to help wean individuals off of their heroine addiction, was now becoming a very serious problem among this nation's youth. "It's really quite easy to get a hold of this drug" said one local teenager. "There are a multitude of 1-800 numbers that you can call, and within twenty-minutes, it'll be delivered right to your door".
Our issue may not be the mail-order purchase of legal drugs over the phone, but it may be the utter obsession with having what we want, when we want it. It may be our unwillingness to slow down long enough to see what is really going on beneath the surface. It may be a crippling sense of entitlement that carries a grudge towards a tow-truck driver that was simply doing his job.
I for one deeply want to remember that silence is not stillness, that attendance is not submission, that charity is not mercy, and that affection is not love. Lord, teach me to veer now and again, remind me that convenience is not lord, and evoke in me a passion for your Kingdom that is not circumstantial. May we breathe in the truth of His never-ending redemptive mercy today.
"The destiny and the journey go hand in hand" -Tim Chaddick
No comments:
Post a Comment