The Old Jalopy and the Ride of Our Life

Written in response to: Write about someone seeking an oasis in a desert — whether literally, or figuratively.... view prompt

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Adventure Christian Kids

The Risk of Love is there.

On the other side of the door.

The majestic and beautiful door.

The narrow door.

Don’t be fooled.

New or used.

We’ve all been there.

And it’s ok to admit it.

We have all thought, come hell or high water,


If. Only I could get there. Make it there.


I need some serious wheels. Shiny, new and “better”.


Loving a something, a someone, a thing, that maybe we should not. Never a good thing. Putting so much time, effort, energy into the ride of our lives? Who would do that? Jumping head and heart first into the great abyss, the great unknown. Relying on an un-reciprocal “rate of return”. Leaves zero balance. (I am not even good at math!) But I do “get it”.


A great first love, a great first set of wheels. They have even been likened to a man’s true “First Love” The thing to get him “going” in life. The looks may fade, slow down, but the foundation of strength and honor still shows up even if and when it does not want too. And do you still “Love it”. What is “it” anyway. In time, friend……in time.


The ride of our life. Does man think, who can get me to the end better, faster, stronger? I will outsmart and do “Whatever it takes” Or does one go with, live an honorable life, then when you look back on it, mind the rear view mirror of your Jalopy, you can enjoy your decisions, your life TWICE!


Hopefully. Seriously. Hopefully.


But that man will not be entering the narrow door anytime soon. So have fun with your brand new set of wheels, if that is what drives you.


🙂No pun intended.


Who decides THAT “return”?? A life of true devotion and service. And who do you want sitting next to you? Bugs. Big ones, small ones, “ familiar” ones can that work their way, get under the and your hood in the most expensive and insidious ways. Years of abuse and neglect can turn a brand new shiny car into a decrepit car well before it is time. Age, neglect and worst of all damage to a barely functional state. Ugh. And talk about stress…..


Well. And or. Consider this.


There is a messenger that beats Facebeek app, USPS, Amazin, UPS hands down. Rest assured though, without all the reckless speeding distraction and race to the front door(s).


We cannot see Him. But we can hear Him. And unless you feel touched by his message, his daily messages, perhaps you will miss the packages, messaged points and letters of distinction. Further, if an un Jalopy-like- existence is your preferred updated means of life messaging. Have at it! Or. Perhaps you should reconsider your options.


For a shinier, brand new one?


No. That is not the message on point.


In many ways and in many cultures of the world, everyone remembers their first set of wheels. Their first “Jalopy”. It was freedom. It was not having to walk all the time to get from here to there. It was a person’s first true love. First “taste” of freedom


So important to our Jalopy-skills that a young person needed lessons, a test, another test and a license to operate. Legally, morally, obligatorily. In the golden years, one has and had to produce the similar set of skills to operate the wheels safely. Makes perfect sense, to not allow “drive bys, skirts, (of inconvenient “matters” and private property option-outs”.) Isn’t it just as important to do the right thing behind closed doors too?


Jalopy possibly, although it is not certain, comes from the earlier written term in 1924 when longshoremen in New Orleans referred to scrapped automobiles destined for scrapyards in Jalapa, Mexico. According to this destination, it was sometimes mis-pronounced the letter “J” as in English.


And the journey began! Jalopy. A battered old automobile. Not to be confused with the delicious Japaleno. Heck. Sometimes people will do anything to,


Belong.


But they should not. Cannot and it is not right. And results in too much disingenuous talking. Misunderstood talking. Misunderstandings.. But sometimes we are in such a darn hurry. And the so called problems become hurtful in not getting to there from here,


Fast enough. Speedy enough. Beautiful enough. With the chipped paint and all. No longer shiny and new and fast. By the grace of God only we have the ability to age. Age gracefully. Why do we sometimes choose the fast lane game of deceipt. ?


And why an old Jalopy can be the darn best indicator of our true motivations and intentions is because it acts liken a stubborn old mule and when it breaks down, it is not fast, pretty or fun any more.


The risk of love entered into at the start of the first car relationship is tested by dimmed lights, and bugs and sparks and blown stories, parts wheels and promises.


Annoying and frustrating when our old Jalopy does not work anymore eh. Puts the burden on others who do not. Work. Need wheels to work. To get to work.


Drive for show put for dough kinda thing. Remedy..Restrict the space of Egoism. (PF). I could not agree more with “Restricting the space of Egoism” and pride and the false notion that self-sufficiency is the only way to go. He implored us not to drive our lives this direction.


Avoiding at all costs, and I do mean ALL costs the dance of the personal, emotional, false notions of enticement to “Belong”. When coming upon the doors:


Through His daily whispers and messages: Be ready, willing and able to walk through The Narrow Door.


Depending on your plan, Does this mean to you to “Run fast, kicking and screaming (if you must) from the “Wide door of Own Convenience” . Avoid that door because behind that door is housed the old and oldest of the Jalopies no one cared to care for?


I do not know because I do not know your plan to get from here to there. Nor do I care to know what you consider your “oasis” in any flat or mountainous aura or area. (diligently proofread) Because that would require dis respecting the Man who made the heavens and the earth.


And I do regularly and personally (whisper-religiously) respect Him. His offspring. Ever. Always.


Hbu? What is your angle? I do not care to know, because I can “hazard” a guess. I am sorry to you and for you.


Why do I care about the difference. Because I decided so long ago to stay away from the desire-to-belong-crowd and to listen and follow. Him. The Him of all He’s. In order to properly and prudently act and behave, and sometimes making it up as I move along.


Listen and hear and watch and bear. The what?


The burden. He asked me to carry and then follow. And the burden I choose to, after listening and hearing, to carry.


If I had shinier wheels, it would just be a shinier day. No worries. I can shine quite well on my own. Own it. And like it. May be not love it all the time, the burden, every day. Tolerate even.


But take care of it everyday. He signed me up to this life a long time ago. And I love Him for allowing me to hear the messages over and over and over and over. Against the workers, the workin’ it workers, the pretend workers, the workers of evil.


Oops, just checked the time.

The clock is barely ticking,

No beep to remind me either.

The Sun is coming up though.

I can feel it shining under the dark, puffy clouds.

Pardon me for ending this abruptly.

Time for my daily walk!🤸🏼

Hallelujah. And. Amen.













August 21, 2022 12:52

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