Lydia, my oldest daughter, received her learner’s permit. Now she is practicing driving. She sits in the driver’s seat, and I sit beside her—in the passenger’s seat.
Yesterday, she drove to her dentist appointment. Today, she drove all the way to Bangor on I-95. There were moments when I held on tightly—she drove a bit too fast, changed lanes too quickly, and passed large trailers a little too closely. I found myself praying the whole way. But by God’s grace, we arrived safely.
As I reflect on this, I realize that is exactly how I learned to drive. We learn by doing. It takes time. It involves risk. I still remember scratching my parents’ car, and a few hard bumps along the way.
Now I see something deeper. Sitting in the passenger’s seat is not just part of learning to drive. It is a spiritual practice. It means accepting that I am not in control. It means letting go. It means trusting and empowering others.
In this season of pastoral transition, I have about two months left. My calling is clear: to empower our lay leaders and to prepare the way for the next pastor, so the transition may be smooth and fruitful.
But I realize this is not only for these two months. It is a lesson for life. We are all on a pilgrim journey, driving into the unknown. In this regard, I am still and always a beginner driver. And true peace comes only when I remember this: I am not meant to sit in the driver’s seat.
When Jesus is in the driver’s seat, and I take my place in the passenger’s seat, there I find security, contentment, and joy. To make much of Christ. To trust in his leading. Lord, may I remain in the passenger’s seat always!
Abide 