On Mondays at lunch, we fast and pray for men to lead with godly character, for women’s hearts to be softened by grace and trust, and for marriages to be created for those who desire them.
It happened on the second leg of our trip from Pennsylvania to Florida. My sister, then 8 years old, was returning to Florida with me for a month-long taste of the tropical life (yeah, I’m a cool older sister). So there we were in hour 14 of our 16 hour trek humming along Interstate 4 in the barren, swampy wasteland of Florida just before Orlando, when the car starts acting goofy (official car jargon) whenever I put on the turn signal.
Finding and removing large bugs from the house, moving heavy furniture, and fixing car issues are just a few of the times when I particularly desire a man’s presence. So often in lieu of the presence of a man, I resort to a vacuum cleaner for bug removal, ingenuity for moving furniture, and phone calls to my dad or brother for a knowledge base before going to the shop for auto repairs. There is just something about being a woman and dealing with automobile issues that makes me feel vulnerable. Have you ever been there?
I realized that sunny Sunday in June, while cruising down the highway with my sister, that my alternator had died and I was on the last bit of battery power left. Radio and A/C were immediately turned off and the windows rolled down. With a sense of urgency to get us closer to civilization, I sped towards the land of Mickey and Donald with all of the lead my foot could muster. I even stopped using my turn signal; I had to conserve as much battery power as possible to reach any sign of life. These were the days before cell phones were in everyone’s back pocket, so I was without means of calling anyone for assistance until I could reach “land.”
You will never guess where my car died, go ahead, and try!
My car died at the Holy Land! There on I-4 my car died right in front of the Holy Land Experience… my car died in Jerusalem. Could there be a better place to go?
It was also there in front of the Holy Land that my car was resurrected with a new battery, just enough to get me home and to the alternator shop. Now I realize in light of Palm Sunday, and Easter around the corner, it might seem a little sacrilegious to reference my car’s death and resurrection at the Holy Land, but I promise that is not my intention.
We all deal with “check engine” lights, malfunctions and breakdowns because we live in a fallen world, no real surprise there. How we choose to handle these moments will greatly impact our journey. My car wanted to die in the barren wasteland part of Florida, and often this is where malfunctions and breakdowns begin, in the dry or swampy, seemingly barren moments of life. If I didn’t alter how my car was using power and redirect all energy to the engine, my story would have had a completely different ending. Sometimes we need to recognize the malfunction and redirect all of our energy to getting to the Holy Land (to the feet of Jesus).
On Palm Sunday, we remember Jesus triumphantly coming into town riding a donkey and people waving palm branches shouting, “Hosanna!” In the course of a week Jesus forever opened the curtain into the Holy of Holies for us to run to Him, with all of the energy we can muster, and leave our malfunctions and breakdowns at His feet.
Jesus sees the malfunctions and breakdowns you experience because of being single, He’s waiting for you to come running to the Holy Land this week… Joy unspeakable awaits!
Get me to the Holy Land!