WHERE TO?

This portrayal mentions themes of substance abuse, physical harm, and mental health issues.

He drives a cab in New York City, crawling the streets of Gotham. Eddie is his name, and he got saved a couple of years ago. He was in bad shape back then, but God did the miraculous. Eddie had to do the rest if he was going to make it, and he can't take much of the credit. God was behind every step, and Eddie took them all, albeit blindly. Faith meant walking on water if he didn't want to die. This job helps a lot. Actually, it lets God help Eddie help others. Actually, it saved his life. He's not a superhero, but he is a Christian. Getting behind the wheel always makes him feel a pull to these streets. Modern medicine says cab drivers have bigger brains, so, I guess you could say Eddie's hopelessly wired to the City of Lights. His brain needed saving, too. Badly. He was hopelessly strung out and sick in the head. He had lost his mind. He's got joy now, and it's the only thing about him that's crazy.

Nowadays, Eddie keeps his eyes peeled for the same kind of people who need prayer the way he did, and not just a ride. He lets God lead. If he didn't, he'd probably be dead by now. Tall buildings reach like fingers high in the sky. Tall, skinny buildings so carefully crowded that on a sunless day, he thinks he's indoors. He's driving around in an office complex complete with traffic, sidewalks, and streetlights for crossing. He's the security guard keeping watch with a meter running and a bag of seeds to sow.

Tension gets to drivers even when they're safely stuck in traffic. The air conditioner's on and the music's playing. It's a resort on wheels but drivers are still hollering, "I'm late!" over blaring horns. They're on their way to where they need to be, but they're not going anywhere. The way Eddie sees it, New York is already The Centre of the Universe. Why get hot under the collar going around in circles a few times? If people are going to be late to their own funeral, they may as well have life in Christ. Eddie's chariot awaits. That's how he thinks of his cab. His job is his calling.

Whether folks scramble around like rats or prefer a more casual pace, they all seem to flow together. The city slows time down and simultaneously speeds it up. The lights come on at night like someone flipped a switch and the City puts on a show. Not everything closes up at the end of the day but Eddie knows the impact of loneliness doesn't loosen its grip. It never did for him but Jesus is right there, in case they want to turn away from the darkness. He's the one they're hailing for rescue. Eddie's the guy driving the getaway car and can talk anyone down from the ledge.

A city that never sleeps doesn't hurry or need to slow down. Rush hour is every hour in Times Square. Even at 1 am, it's still as busy or as relaxed as you please. Where else in the world does a Midnight Moment last for three minutes? The thing is, Christ is coming back and it'll be a one-and-done: in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye. How many people can Eddie cram in his cab to take with him? It might seem trivial that the neighbour's dog barks at all hours but it's a bona fide trial. It calls for nothing short of trust. Eddie can pray for the dog's owner, that God'll make him a good one and that the barking will stop. In that case, the trial has an expiration date, not an immediate fix. He may feel like sinking low into frustration, but he needs to settle down in the land of loving his neighbour. He steps out in faith all over again and believes the best about somebody when he's got murder on his mind. Yeah, it's still walking on water but he's already made it over the right side of the fence. The price of God's will is the same whether it's a matter of life and death or a dog who can't be muzzled. Eddie trusts his Owner. He may never rise to anything more than remarkable strength but trust is like training. It challenges him and he gets something in return. The spoils are meant for his fares.

Folks ride the subway round-the-clock. His stomach tightens when people do hard drugs, steal, fix to hurt others real bad or get themselves killed for no reason. The city has an ugly side, but people take their chances just about anywhere when they've got to get to where they're going. The dead can grab hold of the faith Eddie's got and step out on a hope that won't ever get pulled out from under them. They can have more influence with God than the guy who sits in his car swearing and thinking things about other drivers that are better left unsaid. The dead have rotating dashboards.

This gig doesn't just pay the rent.

Trials are as much for people without faith but there won't be anything to look back on once they get through it. Nothing, that is, to put into heaven's account for them. God's offer is for subway dwellers, jerks in traffic, and all those sick in the head. Would it be too risky to get a sign for Eddie's cab that said as much?

Opportunities are everywhere. The twists and turns speed racers might never see are the bends in the road Eddie slows down for. Being lost without Jesus isn't just ugly, it's hideous. He scrapes people up from off the street and uses his tips to cover their fares. God is looking to make Himself at home in their hearts, too. Eddie remembers their kind of mess and how God knew when he was ready to be re-wired.

They find themselves in the back of Eddie's cab, just conscious enough to see their ugliness in the presence of God. That's no free ride. It's church at its best. Eddie wishes for a sign to light up on his roof:

Occupied Cab: Sinner Found.

He always loves seeing God do the miraculous.