Sunday, April 10, 2011
The Price of Perfection
It's spring in Idaho. In lots of places, spring means tulips, budding trees, and grass beginning to turn green with life. In North Idaho, spring only means one thing--mud.
I've been driving my new car for about a week now, but our road is full of potholes, mud bogs, and ruts. The good thing is my Miata is a champ at dodging the potholes. The bad thing is that its black paint job is a mud magnet. It's constantly filthy and there's no end in sight to my current plight.
I took my first road trip this week to warmer, sunnier climate where my parents live. As I drove into town, I was highly conscious of my Idaho mud car sticking out like a sore thumb in a land of shiny, clean Honda Accords. I decided that a car wash was priority number one. The unfortunate thing was the gale force wind blowing while I attempted to get my car presentable.
The suds were blowing, the water from the pressure washer was swirling, and all the while I was trying to stay dry and clean, as my mom and I were heading to lunch at the Olive Garden and I didn't want to follow in the footsteps of my car, sticking out like a wet, muddy Idaho girl. As I wrestled the power washer, my Mom--my own flesh and blood--sat in the car laughing at me and snapping pictures of my distress.
But, I'm happy to report, that I stuck to it and got the job done. I proudly drove away in my now shiny car. Almost immediately, it began to rain. I knew then and there I had a decision to make. I could either park my car and wait for the sun (which likely won't show up in Idaho until July), or I could come to terms with my muddy Mazda and make the best of it. I chose the latter.
I've also been reading online a bit about some basic care for my convertible and I'm astonished at the number of people who only drive when the weather is perfect. They only park in certain places in the lot and when they do, are paranoid about getting a scratch or a ding. They need perfect circumstances in which to operate.
The way I figure it, in life and sporty cars, we can either park in the garage, stay safe and clean and make sure we don't get dings in our doors, or we can admit that we're going to get a little dirty and enjoy the ride. I for one don't want to miss out on the action because I'm too picky about circumstances or fearful of what might be lurking.
The Pastor gave me a car as a gift, but God gives us an immeasurably more wonderful gift--life--and he intends us to use it, not fear it; to jump into the action and get a little dirty for His work and His Kingdom; to take it for a spin in spite of our imperfections; and to do the best we can with our circumstances.
How about it? Are you ready to cruise?