Driving 70 miles between Fort Worth and Dallas, alone in the dark, caused me to grip the steering wheel, to pay extra close attention to my surroundings, and to praise God for GPS.
However, speeding along with the gas-light on made me really, really nervous. For about 25 of the nearly 50 mile drive the gas needle seemed stable, perched barely above empty. I cringed each time the GPS instructed me to veer left and drive 11.3 more miles on a wide freeway stretched across the middle of nowhere.
I began praying in earnest, “Lord, I know You’re here, and I know I’m not alone. You’ll take care of me if I run out of gas.” When the needle dipped below empty I nearly panicked. Especially when the traffic picked up as I neared civilization. “Lord, help me get back to the hotel without running out of gas!”
As I veered left, again, with another 8.4 miles to go, the needle dropped a hair lower, the gas light beamed ever brighter, my hands gripped the wheel even tighter. I wanted to rest, relax, trust the Lord. I prayed again, a little louder. “Lord, help me find a gas station.” All along I fought the temptation to blame Bob for the empty tank and to resent the fact that our meeting was so far away from our hotel.
But, soon a motel sign caught my eye and I was pretty sure I’d find a gas station nearby, which I did. Relieved, I put 2.5 gallons of gas into the car (and spent $10!) and continued on my way.
As I pulled into the parking lot I felt a huge sense of relief. So thankful for gas, $10, and a safe journey. At the same time I acknowledged my selfish thoughts. Of course, had Bob known Fort Worth was so far away, he would’ve filled the tank with gas. My colleagues who planned the event in Fort Worth did so with everyone’s best interest in mind. I refused to dwell on the lies again. I felt another sense of relief for the Spirit of God, and the freedom that comes from setting my mind on what’s true, right, pure, and lovely.