This is your car, Zacchaeus. I just wanted to write to you because of something that I think is cause for concern. Usually, I stay relatively silent (except, of course, for that sound I constantly make whenever you drive me), but I had to speak up.
Now, before I start, I want you to know that I like you. I really enjoy that you drive me, that you're concerned whenever I bottom out, and even that you call me by name. I really do enjoy all that. I'm glad I can be blessing to you by taking you wherever you need to go.
Yes, Thursday was not my best day. My left arm (I believe you called it my "front tire" or something like that) deflated. I needed a new one. Yeah, you were upset, but at the same time concerned. It's good to want to take care of things. It's called being a good steward. But I think there's a fine line between stewardship and idol worship.
Whoa, that's right, I went there! See, I remember when you first got me. You wouldn't listen to the radio because you were always talking to God. You would start yelling at other drivers and then stop yourself and pray for them. You would praise, you would confess, you would talk to God about stuff I didn't want to know. But it was good. You thanked God for your salvation, for your job, for me.
What happened? Now you just yell at other drivers while you listen to your radio. You talk to me more than you talk to God. I mean, I'm awesome. But I'm a car. I was made in a factory. The God of heaven and earth knit you in your mother's womb. You were woven by Him. He made you and knows you deeply. And you have a chance to talk to Him. And yet you choose to talk to me instead? You get what I say about idolatry?
I feel like my left arm got deflated because you weren't paying attention to God, and you know how jealous He is. He wants the glory. He deserves the glory. I was the blessing. He's the Fount of every blessing. So he took me away temporarily. But was that enough for you to turn to Him?
No, it wasn't. So He flattened my replacement arm. The next night. And you called Josiah to come pick you up, but he didn't answer. It was only then, when you were forced to walk about a half mile alone, that you talked to God. That's whack, man. Why did it take Him flattening my arm twice to get you to worship Him? Seriously, Jason, what made you stop relying on God and start relying on yourself? You've done it before. Plenty of times. And it never turns out well. If you're trying to live your life, go to the one who created it.
Honestly, Jason, I'm glad that you're driving me again and that you've turned the radio off. It's not bad to sing, but your priorities were out of whack. I'm glad to see they're turning back in the right direction. Please keep it up. I'll be really pissed if something more traumatic than a flattened arm has to happen to me for you to recognize God.
Zacchaeus, the Wee Little Car