Driving Me Crazy!

This past weekend I taught my 14-year old sister how to drive my manual transmission car. I figure after a couple months of daily chiropractor visits I should be back to normal again. But until then, a couple thousand milligrams of Tylenol every hour should do the trick. It only took her about fourteen tries to get the car moved into action from a parked position without stalling out. And once the car landed back on the pavement, we probably made it an additional 20 yards or so before the forgotten-clutch-convulsions commenced. She still didn’t quite have the hang of starting the vehicle, but we decided it was time to move out of the parking lot and wreak havoc on the road. I don’t think the other drivers appreciated sitting behind us through several green lights, and no doubt they weren’t very amused when we tried to entertain them by hopping through the intersection.

We had a great time, though, and found out new things about each other. I never realized she had hearing problems – that explains why I had to rapidly increase my volume level while reminding her to apply the brake when approaching a stop sign. I also began to notice symptoms of amnesia – Turn signal? Pedestrians have the right of way? That’s what that DIP sign means? And all the while, my finest qualities broke forth with a radiant brilliance! “Pray without ceasing” became my motto for the day. And remarkably, as that beautiful chorus says, I found the things of earth growing strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace – unless it was just a result of the minor concussion I sustained when my head hit the window… But my faith was stronger than ever when I told the Lord that after this, I’d gladly endure any other form of persecution that He would have me experience. I figured things could only improve from here. And I experienced a renewed eternal perspective as I fixed my eyes above and prepared to drive right through those pearly gates.

Having had such a great experience on Friday, my sister was at the wheel again on Saturday for our longer trip out of town. Her animosity toward stop lights, stop signs, slow moving vehicles, and really, anything else that required her to bring the vehicle to a stop only intensified throughout the drive. By the time we were nearing our destination, she had had enough and decided to take the turn without the assistance of the brake. Though she did her best, and even went out of her way to pass through the nearest ditch, she was unsuccessful in her attempt to uproot the light pole on the corner as we exited the highway.

Having enjoyed the experience so much the day before, she proceeded to hop through most of the town until we made our way into the parking lot. It was a nice trick on the street, but I had to tell her she had gone too far when she tried to jump the well-placed parking block. It took a few minutes to get the hang of walking again, but once the vibrations stopped, we did okay. I’m not sure who enjoyed the reprieve more – us or my poor little car.

By the time we made it home at the end of the day, my sister’s driving skills had continued to steadily improve. It looks like we’re only going to have to replace a half dozen mailboxes and we think we can just hammer out that huge dent in the garage door. Apparently my car was more severely traumatized by the experience than I realized and is currently on strike and threatening to sue for cruel and unusual treatment.

Okay, so maybe I have slightly exaggerated the details in the above rendition of my experiences this weekend...hehe...I’m really not crazy…at least I didn’t use to be…