Teaching a teen to drive may be the reason ibuprofen was invented. Each teen driver in our family brought his or her own set of curiosities to the process. One feared nothing. One feared everything. One was a natural. Six were not.
The most recent new driver in the family “invited” me to ride with her as she logged hours behind the wheel. She prefaced the invitation with, “I don’t like anyone trying to teach me something while I drive. Don’t give me instructions unless someone’s life is in danger, okay?” She might have meant it sincerely, but as I climbed into the passenger seat, my conclusion was that my life probably would be in danger at some point during our drive.
How can an inexperienced driver learn without instruction? She’d read the manual. I guess she thought that qualified her as an expert behind the wheel. Maybe she thought she merely needed an adult to witness her driving and not an experienced authority to guide and help her get better.
And then I gulped. Have I ever treated Jesus like that? Have I assumed that because I frequently glance at the Bible, the manual, I don’t need His help? That I can take it from here? Have I acted as if I am perfectly capable of navigating the roadways of life without the voice of Jesus in my ear telling me to slow down, speed up, swerve, brake, pull over?
A song comes to mind: “I Need Thee Every Hour.” And I’m not ashamed to admit that I do, especially while riding with a teen driver.
—Cynthia Ruchti
