My Old Car
Almost 20 years ago when I was still a college student I had an old car that
I jokingly named Goliath because of its huge size. This car was older than I was
at the time and drank more gas than a dozen pick-up trucks. It had rotted wiring
that my dad had to replace more than once. The windshield wipers were broke. The
battery died often. The radio didn’t work and I only had one, scratchy cassette
for the tape player. It often took quite a while to start and would backfire
loud enough to be heard in the next county. My friends and teachers would often
joke that they noticed buzzards circling my car when I was in class. Still, this
was the car I depended on to commute long distances everyday and more often than
not it got me there.
In a lot of ways too this car was a lot like life. The more you complained about
it the worse it got. If I would complain about the gas milage one of the bald
tires would blow out. If I would grouch about the sputtering engine it would
start raining and I would be straining to see through the water all the way
home. If I griped about not having a radio the next time the engine would not
start at all. But, when I laughed about and accepted all of Goliath’s problems
it would run for weeks without giving me any trouble at all. I would pat its
steering wheel with love and sing along to my old cassette tape as I drove home
in joy. God taught me a lot about life with that car.
My giant, old, beat-up car showed me that you have to appreciate what God gives
you in this life. You have to rejoice in the good and grow stronger and more
loving from the bad. You have to see that worrying and complaining only add to
your misery and realize that you can select laughter, love and joy instead. You
have to reach a point where you take whatever life gives you and use it to make
this world a better, happier, and more loving place. You have to see that even
if you start out driving a piece of junk in this life, God is still going to
make it a glorious ride.
Joseph J. Mazzella joecool@wirefire.com