Driving God’s Train

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Both of my parents worked for Burlington Northern in Butte, Montana. My first ride on the train I was twelve days old. For me, the sound of a train whistle is as soothing as waterfalls to other people.


I made up an allegory for what I think living a Christian life is like:


We are all on various tracks on God’s train, each car holds people that I have met in my life, not everyone is present, but you can be sure my closest friends and family are. We all sit and watch the scenery go by. But sometimes I want to go in a different direction, have some fun … you know?


I get up out of my seat, and walk to the engine, where God is driving. I pat him on the shoulder and say, “Father can I drive for a while?” He gets out of his seat and with such loving eyes he smiles. There is no judgment only the never-ending unconditional love. I sit down and he proceeds to go back to my seat.


When my friends and family see him sit down, their mouths drop and they say, “Don’t you remember what happened the last time she got in the driver’s seat?!” Frantically they are putting on the seat belts. Over the shoulder and buckles in between their legs. They throw on their helmets, and put their heads between their legs.


After awhile, I get into trouble and derail. I get up and start heading back to my seat. My friends and family look awful. Some are crying, furious, and some are even downright yelling at me. “Look what you did!” Some don’t speak to me for years, months, and days. Others are understanding and just say; “Better try next time, huh.”


God is asleep, I have to wake him!! With my head down, I say “I derailed.” With no anger, he gets up and I sit down. “Thanks for the break.” I think I hear him say. And he heads back to the front.


I do this a lot! One would think I would get tired of doing things my way. The outcome doesn’t always come out the way I want it to.

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