I learned something this week. It’s something that I already knew, I think, but the lesson was learned all over again. I really don’t like that. One would think that teaching me the lesson once would be sufficient. But there are some lessons that need to be taught a few times before they stick.
Like this one…
You may already know that I have a fairly large family. My wife and I have six kids, ranging in ages from a fifteen-year-old to a one-year-old. With that many people, we seem to run like crazy most of the time; one of the kids will have practice, while another has something going on at church, while yet another one needs to be at Bible Bowl by 4:00. It gets pretty hectic.
And, as a result, our vehicles see a lot of use, and a lot of wear and tear. We have two vehicles, nether of which can seat our entire family, so in order to go anywhere, we usually take both vehicles. My wife drives our minivan, since it seats the most, and she usually has most of the kids with her. My car for the past few years has been a Buick Rendezvous, and it has been a pretty good car for us.
I fully expected that our van would be the first vehicle that needed replaced in the near future. It’s pretty worn, we’ve added a lot of miles to it, and it needs a few things done to it right now.
But over the weekend, my Rendezvous started making a noise. Monday morning, after having it looked at, the diagnosis was that my engine was shot, not worth repairing, and that it would take a few thousand dollars to replace the drive train, making this vehicle a stable resource for our family again. Otherwise, it was worth whatever I could get out of it as salvage. That amounts to less than four hundred bucks.
The stability of our possessions is a transitory, fleeting, deceit.
Of our vehicles, this is the one I could depend upon. This is the one that was going to last. This was the one that I could take on trips and not worry about it. And overnight, literally, it went from a security blanket to a useless decoration on the side of our driveway.
The stability of our possessions is an illusion.
I struggle with materialism a bit. I always want to have the newest, coolest gadgets, and that temptation has landed me in hot water before. I’ve learned my lessons that having “stuff” isn’t important. But this week, that lesson had to leaned all over again. I hate that.
So we went car shopping. I found a couple of vehicles that I really liked. One was a nice SUV that would allow me to feel like I was driving in style, even though it was a few years old. It was nice. Another car I tested was a smaller, sportier car that would have been much more fuel efficient than my Rendezvous ever was. Or that the SUV would be, for that matter.
But we went with another minivan, for a couple of reasons. The fuel economy is pretty good, not the best, but better than most. But, and perhaps most importantly, it seats seven. That’s still not enough to fit my whole family, but it’s close. And if my wife’s van goes down, then we still have the means to get most of us to wherever we need to go. And maybe, in a couple more years, we will be able to trade in the other van (assuming it holds out that long) for a smaller, economical second vehicle.
Right now, I imagine that you’re wondering why I’m sharing all of my personal vehicle woes with you. It’s because I think we can learn a few things from this.
First of all, remember that “stuff” is temporary. Nothing lasts forever, and even the things in which we find security will fail. I think that is part of the reason Jesus encouraged us to keep our focus elsewhere:
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal; for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. — Matthew 6:19-21
Second, placing our trust completely in our possessions is dangerous. Besides the fact that this is idolatry, like Jesus mentioned above, it’s also unwise. When we find our security in such things, what will we do when they fail? You know they will, eventually.
Third, if these things are truly necessities, then God will provide a replacement or an alternative. It’s that simple. For a couple of days, I had to walk to the office. That’s not my preference, since our road is narrow and busy, but it was a possibility. And after that, we found a replacement vehicle. It’s not exactly what I would like to drive, but it fits our needs better than the car of my dreams would. I really feel like God lead us to this vehicle. The circumstances leading up to it leave no explanation other than God’s involvement. And even though our budget will be strained a bit trying to fit a payment in each month, this in itself gives us even more opportunities to trust God for his provision.
So, even though I don’t like having to learn lessons like this over and over, it still serves as an excellent reminder to not place my trust in my stuff, but to focus instead on the one who provides it all.
I hope I don’t have to learn this lesson again any time soon.
Now, if I could just figure out what to do with that Rendezvous. Maybe I should leave it in the driveway for a while as a reminder…
How has God grabbed your attention in order refocus your attention on him? You can share your thoughts in the comment section below.