A Box Of Cars

Our son, Levi, loves cars….and trucks…and motorcycles…pretty much if it has wheels and moves on the road, he loves it.  As a result he has collected a ton of matchbox cars in his short life.  So many that we ended up buying him a special box for them with individual slots for all of the cars to live.  Levi loves his cars and somehow, despite the fact that he probably has around 50 of them total, he realizes when one of them is “missing”.  This prompts an international investigation in which we must visit each and every location the missing car could be hiding.  No matter what time of day  it is or what activity I was previously doing, all must be stopped to seek out the car.  Is it in mom’s car? Is it buried in the toy box?  Is it in his room?  Was it used in last night’s bath time and now lodged in the drain of the tub?  Worse case scenario, it is outside…buried in the dirt…completely filthy and must immediately be cleaned and returned to the box.  I don’t know how he does it, but he always knows when a car goes missing.

Recently, I was vacuuming the house and shoved the vacuum under a bookshelf and lo and behold, a car covered in dust bunnies and grime comes rolling out.  It must have escaped Levi’s notice…or let’s be honest, he could have been asking for this thing for weeks and I just couldn’t figure out what the heck he was saying.  It was a simple car, no bells or whistles, no flashing lights or moving parts, just a small blue sedan.  Regardless, I wiped it off and absentmindedly placed it on the couch and went on with my cleaning spree.  About 20 minutes later I heard Levi wander into that same room and exclaim, “Blue car!”  He then proceeded to chatter about and play with this nondescript, dull car as if they were long lost buddies and this car was just as cool as his fire truck with its swinging ladders and flashing lights.

As I was watching Levi rejoice over this car that he didn’t even realize was missing I was immediately reminded of the parables Jesus told of the woman looking all day for her lost coin and the shepherd searching through hell and high water for his lost sheep.  I spent a minute thinking of how beautiful those stories are and how grateful I am to love a God that never stops looking for me or after me.  But then a whole new level appeared to the story for me.  I started thinking about how we are called to be like Jesus, to strive to love like Him and live like Him and if those stories teach me about His fierce love and commitment to His children then there is a lesson about my life to be learned in that.

I started thinking about who is in my box of cars.  Who are the people that have ended up in my life through one means or another?  If you have read even a little of this pieced together blog then you know that relationships in general and friendships, specifically, are of a high value to me.  I don’t believe in coincidences when it comes to relationships and I know that the people who fill my Village are not there by accident or usually even, by my own choosing.  God has moved our lives around in such a way that our paths have intersected, sometimes for a season and sometimes for the long haul.

I have also recently started reflecting on the time I spent in my 20’s.  (I am now almost 32, so you know, I’m old now.)  I have come to realize that I was a little reckless and cavalier in my 20’s.  Two caveats to this: 1) I know EVERYONE is reckless in their twenties.  If you manage to escape without a permanent disease or unfortunate tattoo, you are considered to have survived. 2) If you knew me in real life at all back then, you are chuckling to yourself because I was anything but reckless.  But let me explain.

I was a little reckless with my relationships back then.  Just like now, I valued my friendships deeply but I was far too hung up on finishing school, finding a career, “changing the world”, getting and being married, etc, etc to be a good steward of those friendships, of those cars in my box.  My cars would go missing for months before I would notice.  My cars would get lost in the dirt for long periods of time and when they would be stumbled upon again, all gross and covered in mud, I would turn my nose up and ask them to go get cleaned up before I would play with them again.  My box of cars was constantly revolving and very few early models managed to keep their space in my box.  Life was moving fast and friends were finding jobs, getting married, having kids and no one wants to feel like they are standing still, right?  So we all just kept chugging along.

But this past week I permanently lost an old car in my box.  An intense friendship that was forged through battle and refined through tears and triumphs is now forever gone to this side of eternity.  And even though I know that there is really nothing I could have done to prevent that loss, it doesn’t keep me from questioning if I did everything in my power to let that old car know exactly how much I cared.  It had been a few years since we had played together and life got busy.  But it doesn’t stop me from questioning if I would have swept and swept to find her again if she were lost.  Or if I would have braved hell and high water to rescue her.

And while I mourn her passing and stew in those questions, I know the only answer is to learn from my mistakes and approach the friendships of my 30s with a new gusto.  Maybe I need to go looking for a few lost cars.  Maybe I need to help clean a few up, instead of waiting for them to clean themselves up.  In some cases, I need to relish in the complexities of a new and exciting car with flashing lights and in others, I need to pick up those other cars that have been sitting in the box for so long, that they bring comfort and warmth just when I look at them but they might feel a bit ignored.  Because most importantly, I am really hoping that I am sitting in a few car boxes myself.  I am praying that, for as many cars as I possess myself, that someone else is surveying me sitting in their box of cars.  I hope a few come find me again and I hope some that thought I was way too messy to play with decide to help me clean up a little bit.  Because its really more than just a box of cars to me.