When God holds the bolts together
Nancy Kennedy
Years ago, I drove a 1988 red Ford Tempo. I loved that car and put 186,000 miles on it driving my daughters and their friends all over central Florida.
Then it started making a noise that sounded like metal contracting.
I’d bring it to Ron, our car repair guy. He’d run all kinds of diagnostic tests, take the tires off, look under the hood, and put it on his lift to check underneath—but he couldn’t find anything that would make that noise.
So I kept driving my daughters to Orlando, to the mall or Disney World, to school, volleyball games, and the beach—and I’d hear that noise.
After a while, I tuned it out. I told myself, It’s just a noise.
Then my husband bought me a new car. Instead of trading in the Tempo or selling it, I gave it to a woman at work who needed a car for her son.
A few days later, she stopped by my desk, laughing. She said she drove the car home, parked it in her yard — and the motor fell out!
When her son checked it out, he discovered the motor mount was missing a couple of bolts. For months, as the motor tried desperately to break free, I drove it all that time, completely unaware.
It could’ve fallen out on I-75 in 70-mph traffic!
Ignorance may be bliss, but it’s also dangerous. Likewise, a false sense of security is just that — false.
Lately, when I watch the news, everything in me wants to hide in ignorance. What I don’t know can’t hurt me, right?
I tell myself, Everything is fine. Just ignore the noise — and those “Everything is not fine” nudgings.
Not just what’s going on in the world — the wars, rumors of war, bitter political divisions and unrest — but also what’s going on inside me when my bolts become loose.
Just the other day, my coworker Sarah and I were talking about how we sometimes don’t want to “bother” God with our small needs, and how that really reveals an attitude of pride.
“I’m fine, God. I don’t need you right now. I’ll let you know. Bye-bye.”
We know we need God when the car motor crashes to the ground. But God knows we need him when we first start hearing the noise.
“Metal contracting” is not an “everything’s fine” sound.
It’s the sound of small neglects leading to big breakdowns.
Jesus warned his followers to be vigilant: “Watch and pray, lest you enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” He also said we must guard against all kinds of greed and not be deceived by false prophets and false messiahs.
The writer of Proverbs didn’t pull any punches: “The complacency of fools destroys them” (Proverbs 1:32).
With my Tempo, the car started every day, the wheels turned, the radio and A/C worked — so how bad could the noise be? Turns out, pretty bad.Neglect, complacency, and willful ignorance always seem harmless—until they aren’t.Thankfully, God sends warnings—through his Word and through his Spirit living in us. And sometimes, he shows mercy and prevents a disaster from happening.
Hallelujah!
Even all these years later, whenever I remember my little red Tempo, I think of bolts — and of God’s mercy that holds me together, even during those times I don’t even know I’m falling apart.
Contact Nancy Kennedy at 352-564-2927 (leave a message) or email at nkennedy@chronicleonline.com.
