Life's Potholes

The pothole was massive. It was too late to avoid it. As the front, passenger-side tire hit the hole, all I could do was groan, knowing that the impact had surely caused some damage. We continued on to our destination, hoping that everything was fine. Over the next few days, we tried to convince ourselves that the slight vibrations we felt were coming from the road. With a schedule that didn't allow us to take our vehicle into the shop, we continued to drive it the following week.

Being the larger of our two cars, we had no choice but to pack it full of our daughter's college gear and head off to our destination, six hours away. A message on the dash warned us to check the tire pressure. Each time we drove the car, that same message appeared on the dash, convincing us that maybe the vibrations we felt were more than just the road.

When we arrived back home, a trip to the car dealership was on the top of the To Do list. What the mechanic discovered was shocking. The impact from the pothole had significantly bent the wheel rim of the tire, causing the vibrations we had been experiencing. Once repaired, the smooth ride was a pleasant reminder of how our car was supposed to function.

The road of life has its own share of potholes. The pothole of loss. The pothole of anger. The pothole of hopelessness. The pothole of temptation. Some of them can be avoided, simply by listening to the wise advice of friends who have been there. Some of them sneak up on you, luring you into their depths. Even after you've hit one of these potholes, the damage can be hard to assess. We try to convince ourselves we're ok, but the vibrations follow soon after.

The pothole of pride is deceptive. I've found myself resisting help after hitting this pothole -too sensitive to admit that my walk has gotten wobbly. I avoid those who reach out a helping hand and instead, withdraw - isolating myself from all that could restore me. Time rolls on and I convince myself that the vibrations I'm experiencing are merely part of life. Warning signs glimpsed during my daily devotions fail to catch my attention, after all, I am ok, aren't I?

The Master Mechanic is ever so patient. Constantly wooing me and waiting for me to make an appointment with Him. At long last His powerful words soak into my soul. He is my Creator. He wants to restore me. "For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust" (Psalms 103:14; KJV). He alone can repair me, allowing me to function in a way that testifies to His goodness.

I humble myself. He's there to hear my cry. I allow His skillful hand to fix my bent perspective. He gently reminds me, "Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby" (Hebrews 12:11). He places me back on life's road. I'm reminded of how pleasant it is to function properly, and I'm more aware of the path the lies ahead.

Have you hit a pothole recently? Don't hesitate to make an appointment with the Master Mechanic. He's waiting to repair any damage you've experienced, and get you back on the road functioning better than ever!

Prayer: Heavenly Father, thank You for this road of life. Thank You for warning me about the potholes that I'm sure to face. When I hit a pothole, help me to run to You to repair the damage. Thank you for Your love and restoration. In Jesus' name, Amen.