Monday, February 17, 2014

The Peril of Windows



I should be at home right now. It's snowing hard, and my windshield wipers do not work. For nearly two years I've driven without them functioning. When it rains, I spray a fresh lather of RainX on the glass and stay off the road at night. When it snows, I abandon ship and cry out to my wife for an emergency evacuation.

Today I don't want to call my wife. I am the little engine that can. I am self-sufficient husband. I am the crazy driver in the blizzard without working wiper blades. I am stupid.

The worst part: I have a standing offer from a guy in my church to fix them. "Just bring the car over some night, and we can work on them." He told me this more than a year ago. The offer is still on the table.

Surely, some great moral lesson underlies this situation. "Don't leave a helping hand extended." Or, "Don't be a danger to yourself and others." Or, "Call your wife, Stupid." (But, don't call your wife "Stupid.")

Nonetheless, I'm not in the mood for moral lessons. I want adventure. Moral lessons choke us. Adventures free us to roam. The brazen male in me bellows for a challenge.

Driving in the snow. Running without shoes. Skiing black diamonds. Eating Mexican with GERD.

I continue to do these things to stay alive. Some of them could lead to my death. This, of course, is our last, great adventure. C.S. Lewis describes the journey from earthly life to eternal life beautifully in The Last Battle.

"And for us this the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.” 


I'm headed home, now. If I don't make it... I actually did.

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