Driving Miss Digital

Growing up, my family only took a few long road trips. Maybe because during one trip we had a massive overnight breakdown of our Star Wars-red tinted bubble window-wall to wall shaggy carpet-no bucket seat-8 track tape van. Trips like these tend to create lasting memories, which is becoming more appealing to me than ever before as hurry and speed have thankfully been leaking from my life. So I loaded up for one of the longest trips of my life this spring as I hit the open road (both literally and figuratively).

On the front end of my 30-day adventure, I had the pleasure of logging 35 hours of podcasts and audiobooks sprinkled in with a little sports talk radio and loud music with all the windows down. Oh to feel 16 again as if it were the first time behind the wheel. And I didn’t care that people were staring at me while I was singing like a California girl. I dare you to give it a try this week now that the weather has finally turned. It’s good for the soul.

While this lengthy drive coupled with the subsequent days of solitude provided a valuable time of reflection, I quickly realized that riding solo is only good for a short and defined period. While I prefer quiet over the loud social scene, the value of relationship continues to escalate in every corner of my life as relationships are clearly the source and sum of all meaningful substance. Starting with my family, which I’ve been able to thoroughly enjoy and soak in the last few weeks without having to run off to the airport or zip downtown. And it was the time with my family on the back end of the road trip that made me think about the wheel and destination of my own life.

As we started the 17-hour hike back to Ohio together, my daughter said she felt bad for me since I had to drive the entire time and couldn’t watch movies like her. And while she knew our ultimate destination in Cleveland, she didn’t have to ask about the path or route along the way. Not because she could see the blue line on the navigation (that would have been super fly in our Star Wars van), but simply because Dad was driving. No worries for her since she had full confidence in me. She just kept her head down and joyfully watched her movies.

Like many families, we like to make a big deal about crossing state lines. Thankfully I have the longest arms and always make it across the line first (my wife will try to dispute this but frankly my wingspan is factually longer than hers). As we crossed the bridge in West Virginia and finally made it into Ohio, we all cheered for the home stretch. But 30 minutes later, my daughter said “are we close to Ohio?” Um, you missed it 35 miles ago sweetie (and yes, I was going the speed limit for those of you doing the math). She was so engrossed staring at the digital screen with headphones on that she missed the marker, and not by a little.

Looking back on it, I picked up two lessons that directly speak into my current season of uncertain roads. First, as long as I know the ultimate destination, I don’t need to worry about how I’m going to get there. My Father knows and has already planned the way. I can have full confidence in His navigation and timeline, for His map is perfect and for my good.

But second, I’ll miss the markers and milestones if I don’t lift my head up along the way. This is why I feel so blessed for a deliberately slower pace at the moment, which is a rhythm I’d like to find a way to structurally reset in some capacity no matter which road comes next. (If you are looking for a good book on slowing down, I’d highly recommend Reset by David Murray.) In fact, I am committed to “ruthlessly eliminate hurry from my life” as recommended by Dallas Willard (one of the most brilliant writers and theologians I’ve read). He suggested that this is not just in reference to my calendar or even a condition of my outward body but rather a condition of my inner spirit. That’s much deeper and honestly gonna take some more thought in my quest to pink slip my hurry.

So after 30 days I’m hearing let go of the wheel with confidence, roll those windows down, and soak in the ride. Sounds like a plan to me.