When I was in my twenties, that would mean a night drive.
Driving on a long straight road, more than a few miles faster than the highest posted speed limit. All the windows had to be down, the sunroof open. I would consciously make the decision NOT to tie up my hair even though I knew the result would be too many tangles to brush out. Washing and conditioner would be the only remedy.
No radio. It had to be my own choice of music – no commercials. no talking.
The music had to be LOUD. And I had to know all the words, because I needed to sing. At the top of my lungs, like nobody was listening.
Today, logic and finances and a lack of a sunroof or movable windows in my minivan, dictate no fast and aimless night drives.
But I have the house to myself during the day. The music is so loud I can’t hear the doorbell or the phone. And the cats paw at the sliding door because they want to escape to the back porch, where the sound is only minutely softer.
And that mini-van isn’t soundproof either.
I really need to clear my head. It’s a mess in there.
“Maybe it’s just my quest for creativity and difference. I’m not sure. But God is shaking me. God is stirring me.
Why? To place me in a new situation so that I have to trust Him fully. When I have my comfortable caged life, I know the parameters. I know my life. I know what will happen and what won’t. I can insulate myself from interacting with others. I can play it entirely safe. I can trust in me, not God.”
Mary DeMuth