At least that is what I said to my husband this morning.
It was my first proclamation of the day, and I was so sure of myself when I said it.
See, yesterday, I was leaving the drug store when I heard, amongst other offensive noises, the sound of a man yelling expletives out his car window and squealing away. I live in the fifth largest city in the
I think that people are at their worst behind the wheel of a car. Just before this incident, I had been at a stop light. I hope that this makes sense. There were three lanes at the stop light. I was in the middle lane. Past the green light we would merge into two lanes.
I was the lane to which people were trying to merge. I let one person in, although they were much slower than me. I thought that was an act of kindness, but when Mr. Truck rolled up next to me thinking that I was just going to sit through another one, I said out loud, “I don’t think so. I was being nice.” That’s right…you heard me.
My car looks like a mommy mobile, but she has a little something under the hood. I don’t mind making grown men cry as I leave them behind at stop lights…at least, that is the way I picture it in my mind, which only proves my point. I should not have a car in heaven.
Put people behind the steering wheel and, immediately, their universe becomes the size of their vehicle. Some of this is justified, as safety is important; but, you and I both know, it goes one step further than this. It is an un-inhibitor. You can say things with your windows rolled up that you might not while standing in a line. Then you speed away because you can.
So, standing in front of the drug store, listening to the sound of anger like a wind chime in a hurricane, I thought about how different heaven will be. Then, I thought about this car problem. Cars don’t make people crazy, people make people crazy. This is true, but cars get us there faster. I just can’t imagine that they have a proper place in heaven.
I told my husband all of this and more. His handsome face looked quizzical and then very sad. He sent me his vision of heaven.
I just love that man. Jesus loves him even more than me. So, I concede, babe, there might just be a Bugatti Veyron Grand Sport (1001 HP, 0-62 in 2.7 seconds) with your name on it in heaven. But, I still don’t think that you will be allowed to drive it.