The garage mechanic plugged the Prius into the computer. All
the warning lights flashed, bells went. He investigated further, concluding it is
a hydraulic brake problem. We’ve tipped the balance: it will probably cost more
to fix than it is worth.
Scrambling to find a replacement: never a fun job when we
are both car-averse, meaning we want a car that will get us from A to B and
back again, (and for me, is, preferably, red, or a bright blue, but not the boring
silver we usually end up with).
I did entertain a moment of madness on Saturday when we
stopped to see what the car lots had in Perth. There was a little, convertible,
red Mazda sportscar. The sun was out on Saturday, and this convertible had
charisma. It was calling me. I want to be that Gramma who zips around in a
totally impractical little red sports car. (I did grow up listening to ‘the little
old lady from Pasadena’…)
Except. Flick asked me if there was room in the back seat
for her car seat. No, sweetheart, there is no back seat. No back seat.
I reckon that in life some of us have choices. We can choose
the zippy red sports car which doesn’t even have a boot big enough for a
suitcase, and drive around in lonely splendour, or we can pick that clunky
silver people-carrier, but then fill it with people we love.
Not to mention, how could my conscience cope, knowing there
are people all over the world in dire straits, who could have benefitted from
some of the money squandered on a fast car. And the environment! What sort of
emissions would that baby spew out?
There for a moment, I flirted with taking a walk – or a ride
– on the wild side. Reluctantly, I suspect if you see me driving around, it
will be in yet another generic silver, maybe white, car. It will have a back
seat.
I’m trying to connect this to Jesus somehow. But I don’t
want to infer that he lived a conventional, boring life. He enjoyed life. He
was accused of being a party-person. Of drinking and eating with unsuitable
people. If he were choosing a vehicle, I think he might choose a bus, big
enough to carry a crowd of disparate people he picked up along the way. Maybe
that’s what I should be looking for…
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