We live in a very quiet neighbourhood.
Late one evening I was listening to some music when I heard a loud crash on the
street. It took me a while to realize what had happened.
Earlier that evening my wife wanted me to go to the store to get some soft
drinks. It seemed like this would be a good time to let my teenage daughter get
in a little practice driving. I sent her to the store with her older brother
riding shotgun. She took my truck. I settled back to enjoy the music.
At dinner earlier that evening my oldest son was speaking admiringly of the
truck. It is a little four-wheel drive Ford Explorer and the kids knew I enjoyed
having it. It is the nicest car I have ever owned.
I said, "Guys, my heart is not set on that car. I like it but it is just rusting
metal and it is a depreciating item. It won't last forever. Never set your heart
on anything that is temporary."
I had no idea how prophetic my advice was that night. The thud on the street was
followed by a commotion upstairs and then the whole family pouring down the
steps led by thirteen year old Chuck who shouted, "Dad, Dad, Holly wrecked your
car."
My heart sank and my mind was flooded with conflicting thoughts. Was anyone
hurt? Who else was involved? I ran to the door with a racing heart and in that
instant a message came clearly to my spirit like a voice in my heart: "Here is
your chance. You have always looked for ways to show Holly that she is precious
to you. Here is a unique opportunity to show her what you really love. How you
react now is something that she will probably never forget."
To my surprise the accident had not occurred on the street, but right in my own
driveway. And my fears about damage to the property of other people melted when
I saw that the collision was with our other car, the family van. In her
inexperience Holly had confused the brakes and accelerator. In an instant both
of my cars were wrecked. Holly was unhurt physically but when I reached her she
was crying softly and saying over and over again, "Oh, Dad, I'm sorry, I'm sorry
Dad, I know how much you love this car." I wrapped her in my arms and she cried
and my heart melted for her.
Later that week an adult friend stopped by and asked what happened to my truck.
I swore her to secrecy and then told her what happened. Her eyes moistened and
she said, "That happened to me when I was a girl. I borrowed my Dad's car and
ran into a log that had fallen across the road. I was able to drive the car
home, but it was totalled. When I got home my Dad dragged me from the car,
knocked me to the ground and began to kick me."
Over forty years later the pain of that rejection still moved her to tears. It
was a deep wound on her soul.
I remembered how tender-hearted Holly had been the night she wrecked the car and
how vulnerable she was at that moment and I breathed a prayer of thanks to God
for His gentle reminder that night. Someday years from now when Holly thinks
back on her life and she remembers me I want her to know that I loved her a
thousand times more than all my earthly possessions put together.
I repaired the van, but the wrinkle in the hood of my truck is still there
today. Every day it reminds me of the really priceless things in my life. I
don't mind having damage to my truck, but I don't want to be responsible for
damage to my daughter's heart.
Ken Pierpont
pierpont@mail.riverview.net
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