Traveling with Jesus
Middle America is different from the coasts--so is the Deep South. Sometimes, as a life long Easterner, I forget that reality. Folks in places like Tennessee and Kentucky are much more willing to wear their faith on their sleeves--or in some cases, as above, on their vehicles. As I sat waiting for Linda in a parking lot in northern Georgia, I was amazed to see a white pick up truck a few rows away, with the words "Thank God I'm a Christian," emblazoned on the tailgate.
Later that same day, I was passed on the highway by a tractor trailer, decorated with a variety of Christian symbols and mottos, including "To God Be the Glory," again in red letters, this time on the side of a white cab, and, on the mud flaps, "Jesus Saves." Somehow that seemed especially appropriate!
I am grateful to be a follower of Jesus, but I'm not sure I'd call it a point of pride. Rather it means humbly recognizing that I can't do it on my own. That I need guidance, that I need help. Perhaps that is all the fellow with the pick up truck means as he proclaims he's a Christian. But I'm not sure I would read it that way if I was not. I might see it as a bit of braggadocio--as a boast. I'm a Christian--I'm saved.
Maybe that's why I like those mud flaps. If you'll pardon the pun, they seem much more down to earth. Jesus' wise words save me from the messes I might otherwise get into. Indeed, the way of Jesus even saves me from myself! But that said, I'm not about to get my car painted with a cross--nor am I about to get a set of mud flaps. I'll just keep traveling with Jesus in my own way. And hopefully, though that won't show up on my vehicle, it will show up in how I live.