When the Journey Trumps the Destination
Spring time is here. That means one thing—my top comes off. Well, my Jeep top, that is. See, as a Jeep owner, the months of September through March carry with them a shadowy depression because the weather forces the sane person to keep their Jeep top on. But then Spring arrives. The top comes off and the whole world seems brighter and cheerier. Fresh air, sunlight, stretching skies and a sense of open-air freedom attack the soul. Oh, if only all year could be Spring. (Perhaps heaven is filled with topless jeeps?)
It also means that my kids love riding in Daddy’s Jeep. My 10-year-old son never uses the door, but instead climbs onto the back wheel and up and over the roll cage to get into the front seat. And my 2-year-old daughter often says, “Ride Daddy’s Jeep?” She didn’t always like to ride in the Jeep, however. At first the wind and sun really bothered her (she was used to a domesticated van). But after the first few trips around town, she began to anticipate and love the wind and sun. Now she loves it. She’ll say the magic words, “Ride Daddy’s Jeep?”, and we’ll load up into the Jeep—strapping her into her car seat—heading off on our four-mile trek somewhere at 30 miles an hour. She smiles and laughs and says, “Windy!” and “Bumpy!” She throws her hands up in the air and says, “Go fast!” To her, a ride in Daddy’s Jeep means an adventure with dad. She has no idea where I am taking her (and it doesn’t matter), but the ride with dad in his Jeep is the reward. And she loves it!
My ride with my heavenly Daddy has been very similar. At first, the newly experienced wind and the sun and the bumpy ride were bothersome. I was used to a domesticated journey with him; quiet, predictable, climate controlled, certain. But when he asked me to hop into his “Jeep” and go for a ride, I was apprehensive. Where are we going? What will it be like when I get there? But there’s no top!? It’s uncomfortable. And he said, “I know, that is part of the experience.” So he picked me up, set me in my seat and strapped me in. The wind, the noise, the sun, the bumpiness were all there, as expected. But as we rode, those very things became the joy of the journey. I find myself feeling freer. I can’t seem to get rid of my giddy smile. The sense of open-air adventure with Dad is exhilarating. I have no clear idea where we are going, but that seems to matter less and less. Just the joy of being on a faith-adventure with Daddy in his Jeep, seeing him look back reacting to my joy, is becoming—more and more—enough for me.
The journey is becoming more important than the destination. Perhaps this is what Jesus meant when he said not to worry about tomorrow and that the Kingdom is here, now.
And when he invites some of my friends to join the ride, the journey becomes even more enjoyable. It is indeed a ride of a lifetime. Thanks for letting us ride in your Jeep, Daddy! I love it!
Your son,
Jeromy
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