[size=85](as published on Sonshine blog 1/22/10)[/size]

Our grandma of the last blog surely has nothing on me, as far as driving. As long as I can remember, friends and family have always winced whenever I have offered to drive. Shame on them, because I offer up my driving skills or lack there of, only at great sacrifice and a sign of my dieing unselfishness.

Did you know that upon my last vacation with my now departed mom, I would let her do the worse part of the driving. She lived on Coronado Island and whenever we would be going to or coming from San Diego I would tell my mom, “you know the drill.” Then we would find some obscure place on the side of the highway to trade positions, whence I would become passenger and she the driver. Even in her late seventies, I felt she was better equipped to drive over the fearfully high, death defying Coronado San Diego bridge. That monstrosity was not only high, but so fast did the five lanes of cars travel, the bridge surface was banked like a race track. And then to make the driving completely unbearable you could see over the thirty inch railings into the watery abyss below. So yes, mom and I had our familiar spot on each side of the bridge where she would man up and I would climb into the back seat, wring my sweaty hands and begin to labor in breath.

When I first moved to Jackson Hole, I had Oklahoma license plates and I would have traffic backed up over a mile on my way home from work. I knew the impatient line of drivers behind me were thinking, “stupid Oklahoman tourist #@!%#&!.” I was so insecure, I would never take more than quick glance in my rear view mirror because I knew if I looked very long I would surely see the angst of the traveler behind me mouthing a long line of profanities. I’ll tell ya, the date upon which I got my Wyoming plates was an Alleluia day! With local plates, I actually felt comfortable enough to subtract five more miles per hour on my speedometer, as the homeward bound line of cars behind me grew even longer. I would then grin and tell my antsy disgruntled helpers that were riding with me, to think of this spectacle as a celebratory parade, where we were leading all the weary pilgrims into the city and back home. lol

I wrote that above, as an introduction for a letter from a SONSHINE reader and friend, I wanted to publish. It seems I was maybe having so much fun reminiscing, I took my eyes off the road ahead and forgot why I writing. Or maybe I had my foot on my oxygen line while typing. Either way, please note that cray intro has absolutely nothing what so ever to do with the following.

Now, with my second attempt at an introduction, I pray this dear saint’s correspondence blesses you, as a possible road side marker of our amazing journey into the depths of our Lord and Saviour, Christ Jesus. I do believe our sister, Cherri, is coming to the place called “JUST BEING, THAT HE MIGHT BE.” This is where we give up the work and He takes over. Although my friend might have shared regrets in her letter, of a possible avenue missed, I know she will find she has always been perfect in God. You see, it is in our surrendering recognition of God’s overwhelming sovereignty, we find all of our steps have been pre-ordained perfectly for His greater purpose in Love. Ain’t He the best and still He is better yet when we rest and let Him be all He can be. All is wonderment and joy in the Holy Ghost, when we let God be God and we go along for the ride. His fiery chariot ain’t bad, when we know He’s the driver.

Hi Jack,

Hope you are doing well.

I loved the story of the Grandma with the new bumper sticker. It made me laugh. My mother-in-law just turned 93 years old and drove until two years ago. I am quite certain she experienced some of those intersection worship services a few times and I’m not certain that she didn’t even learn the new Hawaiian language referred to.

I am going though a time of trying to understand what possible good I can be to God’s plan and purpose in the state that I am. I feel so isolated but it isn’t really the isolation that is bothering me as much as the lack of vision and direction.

I know the futility of “the knowledge” of Cherri and I have placed that carnality on the cross where it belongs. I recently read an article that spoke about “coming up higher to get direction”, but I don’t know how to do that.I don’t know what is preventing me and I don’t know what is holding me captive. I want to be totally free yet I can’t seem to get there.

I am remembering a place of knowing that I could walk away within me. I was in a very difficult situation and had come to the end. I went into my room and slid down the bed to the floor facing the wall and all of a sudden I knew that I knew that somehow I could just walk away on the inside of me. I don’t mean walk away from the situation or the people and I knew that my body would not cease to live but I would not be there.

It was a tempting knowledge, however, fear of not knowing where I was going and perhaps a fear of leaving what I thought was reality prevented me. Maybe had I turned loose that day and walked away from life as I perceived life to be at that time I would have been sitting with Him in that higher place.

Now I want to walk away and I don’t know how. Now that foolish ego that desired to make a difference or be of value has been exposed as a selfish desire to be as God. Now I just want to be with God.

If I can’t vacate this body Christ cannot occupy this body. I don’t know how to vacate. I understand how to move out of a structural house (Lord knows I have done plenty of that). I just open the door, get in my vehicle and drive away and the next occupant moves in. I don’t understand how to move out of this physical house (body). I don’t know where to go. I don’t have a direction and I don’t have a vision.

I am willing to walk away from my body but I don’t know where to go or even how to get there. I don’t know where the vehicle is for me to get into and drive away. How do I go there so He can come here, and where is there?

I know this is kind of heavy but I thought you would probably understand this place. I know the answers can only come from God but sometimes it helps just to bounce it off of another.I hope this is okay to share with you. I know that you are walking your walk as well.

Blessings to you my friend,

Did you know Cherri is a Latin variant of Charity. Seems our sister’s letter and name have that commonality. Thank you, Cherri.