Sacred Spaces

I grew up in a car loving family. If you need proof, my brother and I would fight over who got to read the new issue of Car & Driver first when it showed up in the mail, I had a big collection of diecast model cars and Chevron Cars (so cute!), my uncle was a semi-professional racecar driver, and I still care a lot about liking what I drive and trying to keep my car clean.

I suppose I shouldn't be shocked then that over the last 10-ish years the place where I've been most honest with God, and have subsequently made some big breakthroughs with Him, has been in my car. The breakthroughs haven't often been about a solution, but have often been because I've hit a point where I'm willing to pour it all out. It is certainly helped by the fact that I'm alone there and that I can pray out loud and do an ugly cry without my roommates hearing through our walls. But also, I'm somehow always coming from somewhere that I had been doing a lot of pondering, or a friend had said just the right thing to spur me to action. And before I can lose any momentum, I say the prayer once I'm parked. 

A lot of this really has to do with learning several years ago that God is a confidant as much as He is anything else, so these car prayers often end up becoming a time where I can say, "This is hurting me so much that I can barely stand it." And that feels markedly different than how I was taught to pray. Of course everyone always says, "Tell Him what's on your heart," but I never really felt like that was modeled properly for me. So these car prayers, often coming from places of abject frustration or despair, are special because I'm finally willing to confide in Him like I would to my favorite person in my living room. And I've found that telling Him something that He already knows (This hurts! I'm sad! What is even happening?!?!) is as helpful as asking for some deliverance because I feel something unlock inside of my heart. Somehow that absolute unvarnished vulnerability, often without even knowing what help to ask for, helps me feel and know that He is listening and is with me through this.

This week I had a couple of very surprising things happen that really knocked me off kilter. As I headed into work on Tuesday I was just desperate for a little light, for some relief. I had been hesitant to pray about what was transpiring because I didn't want to have to address the reality of hard situations, but I knew I needed to connect with the divine. So I talked to Him from my car in a parking garage in downtown Phoenix before I walked to my building. I told Him how I knew my own actions had created some of my problems and that my behavior wasn't okay, but also explained that my own actions were driven by some of the big questions and big hurts that have been lingering for a while. I wouldn't say my sins were expunged, my immediate pathway made clear, or even my future made known. Quite the contrary, actually. But I felt God's love and care for my situation as I told Him deep truths from my heart, and even felt an impression or two about who to lean on.

The relief wasn't complete at the outset. I was still wiping sad tears from my face as I walked into my building, but with each passing hour my head lifted up a little higher and my heart seemed less burdened. By the end of the day I couldn't believe how different I felt compared to that morning where I was seized with fear and sadness. Don't mistake that for things being solved; I have so much to do and learn and change and become. I'm at the start of this road still with this current issue. But I am feeling more able to square my shoulders to what is happening and that God can put some wind in my sails if I keep telling Him the truth. And the key material factor between how I felt when I woke up on Tuesday to when I left work that afternoon was a car that I enjoy a lot, one that I think represents my personality pretty well. I like how it sounds and how it looks. It has red seats, which are always a crowd pleaser! But moreover, it has and will continue to provide space for me to reach my hands toward heaven, and feel heaven reaching back to me, and for that it is worth more than anything I own.

POV: You're figuring it out one day at a time from your unique sacred space.