Gather ye sparkplugs, for tomorrow we drive

About a year and a half ago, I bought my car. It is a 2006 black, Honda Element and I love it. LOVE it. It's fun, gets decent gas mileage, and big enough for what I want to do. It is a REALLY well thought-out car. I had a friend's kid completely hark in the back seat. 30 minutes and a rest-stop hose later and we were vomit-free and wondering about what was for lunch...

But over the last 18 months, a little bit of the shine has worn off. I still love the car, but I don't baby it as I used to. A new scratch isn't met with fretting. If I go an extra week without washing the car, or an extra month without changing the oil, so be it.

I remember my old car, my 1996 Dodge Stratus. I LOVED that car. I still miss it some days. By the end, it was a real POS, but it was MY POS and as long as it lived, I still wanted it to be the thing that got me places. But there were things that were just straight-up broken on that car. The bumper never got 100% fixed after that time I got pulled out of a snow drift. The CD player would work sometimes... if the temperature was just right. And the cruise control, well, that was just a crap-shoot. But I'll be damned if I didn't shed a tear the day I traded it in for Ellie.

I've been wondering a lot about people being "broken." I hear it a lot, especially with the pappy cliche crap that gets thrown around, especially in my Baylor circle of friends. It's an idea that we're all "broken people" and imperfect, rought with sin and vice.

But no one ever talks about being "fixed." Christianity doesn't make us "fixed."

I think that if you live long enough, you're going to get some scratches and you're going to have some things about you that are "broken." But do you ever get them fixed?

I know some people who are pretty hard on themselves. They know they're broken and they judge and hurt and wallow in their brokeness. They cut themselves off because they don't want anyone else to have to sit through a drive with them without a CD Player. Or they don't want someone to make the trip from Waco to Galveston without a cruise-control.

But maybe they're wrong. Maybe being happy isn't getting "fixed" but rather understanding that some of the greatest conversations I've ever had, were in that Stratus because we had no music to distract us from talking and that there were nights where using the cruise control during the 2AM drive in the middle of nowhere would have gotten me killed. I would have fallen asleep.

I'm just saying that, in life, we have bruises and hurts and neuroses and problems. And some of them necessitate help, some of them necessitate time, and I honestly believe some of them necessitate forgiveness.

We're all broken. Some of us much more than others. But happiness isn't being "fixed." Maybe it's merely knowing your dents, scratches and faulty parts are part of who you are, your charm, what someone will love about you and learning to have a conversation instead of singing along to Beyonce.

I know that life is short and expensive. Who has time to sit in a driveway, wishing you were perfect, when you've got places to go and adventures to have? I've loved cars before, and I'll probably love more, but I know a good thing when I've got it. And I have it now.

Love the now, for yesterday is gone, and tomorrow may never come.

Love Now, broken pieces and all.