Sunday marked a close to a 9 year run on staff at Immanuel. What a great ride. The staff was so kind and gave me a little send off after second service. Sheryll made a fantastic cake with a yellow Lamborghini on it that said, “Drive!!!” Josh shared that in my resignation letter, I told a story about a little girl and her father, and a yellow Lamborghini so I thought it would be fun to share the little tale with you.
Written November 2015
One day, a child was given a little, yellow Lamborghini hot wheel for her birthday from her father. What may have been an odd gift for a girl, it quickly became her favorite little treasure. She adored her dad, and loved that he had given her such an amazing gift. To her, it was perfect. She took it everywhere with her, and at every chance she got, she would take it out and drive it. Back and forth, back and forth. She would build elaborate ramps, and parking garages, and car washes. She would drive it through the mud, down the slides, and under tables.
And every night, her dad would tuck her in, set her little Lamborghini on the nightstand, and kiss her little forehead and say, “I am so proud of you.”
Years went by, but the little girl’s love for her toy never changed. The car was well worn as anyone could see by the chipping paint and sticky wheels.
In high school and college, the car was almost lost. The young woman was reckless and the tiny car spent most of the time in a dorm room drawer. Until one day, as she was unpacking after college, she found the little treasure and put it back in it’s rightful place.
A few years later, she started a family her own. She kept her precious car on her desk at work, reminding her of her father, and fond memories she had playing with the gift as a child.
On her 35th birthday, her dad gave her a little gift. It was box, wrapped with a beautiful, yellow bow. As she opened it, she saw a little, yellow Lamborghini, almost the same exact one she got as a young girl. He kissed her and said, “I am so proud of you. And, no matter what, I always will be.” As she pulled the car out of the box, she realized it wasn’t a hot wheel, it was key chain, with a key dangling at the end.
It was to a real yellow Lamborghini.
Confused and shocked, she asked her father what it all meant. He told her, “I have been watching you your entire life driving and treasuring this little hot wheel. Caring for it, loving it. Sure, there were times you got it sticky, or ran it into some stuff…even seasons it was misplaced or sat on the nightstand. But I thought this year, I would see if you would want to take a real one for a spin. I have been saving for years and would love to go on an adventure with you before it’s too late.”
“But you don’t have to. I understand what I am asking is scary. It’s not part of your plan. You could even get hurt. And in order to drive, you will have to let a lot of stuff you love, go. But if you trust me, I have a great adventure planned for us. And, I will be with you the entire ride. Who knows, we might end up right where we started. But you will be changed forever.”
November 19th is my 35th birthday.
And I feel my Father is inviting me into a grand adventure and he has offered me the keys to a risky, scary, beautiful ride. He’s charted our course, and now He’s asking me to drive. And, I am terrified, but know that my Father’s with me.
I don’t just want to tell stories. I want to live an amazing story. I want to look back with as few regrets as possible. I want to be a Christian that says yes to God when it is risky and uncomfortable and unknown. I want to be a mom that says yes to her children and makes the most of the time she has with them. I want to tell anyone who will listen that God is in the business of redeeming pain. That if we choose to change our perspective, if we choose a posture of surrender, if we wade into our brokenness and imperfection, he will turn it into something beautiful for ourselves, and the world.