Sacred

Growing up, I spent many hours in the car.  We traveled a lot due to my dad's job, we went on vacations, we passed time by sight-seeing, and legend has it, that was the easiest way to get me to go to sleep when I was a baby.  As I got older, I spent more time locally in the car as my mentor would come pick me up from school, and we would drive around and talk or we would pull into Sonic and sit in the car.  I have even done ministry where the basic premise was that we were a transportation service.

In all these many hours logged in the car, I've learned there is something sacred about those 2 or 4 door sanctuaries.  When those doors close, words start to flow.  This vehicle becomes a place of healing.

It's a therapist chair.

A confidant's couch.

A prayer room.

A war zone.

A place of rest.

A retreat.

See, this is the place where I find that I can be still and know that he is God.  It is where I find my solitude.  It is also where I have had many hours of discipleship.  I have taken many ladies to Sonic and just sat.  Sometimes for hours on end.  We dive deep into the hard questions.  We laugh.  We sort out the issues of our day.  And, on occasion, we talk about boys.  But most importantly, we build relationships that are of the very best kind.  We are iron sharpening iron.  

I believe that we need a sacred place outside the four walls of the church where we can just do life.  Where we are approachable, honest, and vulnerable.  I don't know where that is for you, but I believe that what was once meant as a mode of transportation is the most sacred space for the most sacred conversations.

I will continue to pass on this tradition as I disciple young women and build relationships.  I will continue to allow my car to be a sanctuary.  I will continue to wage war, rest, pray, and retreat even at 70 miles per hour.  I will be a road warrior.  That is sacred.