I’ve driven through the Alps of Switzerland.
I’ve driven on the autobahns of Germany.
I’ve driven along the Cote d’Azur in France.
I’ve driven by the casinos of Monaco.
You would think that the Kennedy Expressway, or the Eisenhower, in Chicago would be No Big Deal. And, for years they weren’t.
But, last summer, while driving home from Wilmette, Illinois, I suddenly had a panic attack getting on the 290 going south. For no reason that I could think of. Sure, the traffic was intense, but it always is in Chicago. Sure, I hate getting lost more than I hate any sensation in the world, but I knew where I was going. Why this sudden surge of fear, this mind-numbing, heart-accelerating, hand-sweating state of being?
Because I didn’t know why, because it was so intense, I’ve been afraid to drive on the highways ever since. I’ve found every back road or every quiet lane available, and believe me, in Chicago there aren’t many of those.
Then I thought to myself, “Self, are you going to live in fear the rest of your life?” My self thought that probably would be the most comfortable, and so it hasn’t ventured out into the fast lane yet…
Yesterday I drove to the Garden Party my sister in law prepared for us. I plugged in the Tom-Tom (thank you, God, for those devices) and confidently pushed NO when it asked if I wanted to use tollways. So, I’m driving merrily along when the nice British voice says, “In 400 yards, turn right.” Like, onto 355 North.
Hello! I debated my options. I can go straight, and completely ignore the Tom-Tom, which was my first inclination. Or, I could trust the Lord first, Tom second, and put fear behind me.
Which is what I did. And it is with great relief that I have safely gone where I have feared to tread, releasing the spirit of fear behind me while hoping that it gets run over by other Chicago drivers speeding by.