Get A Different Seat

The license plate “God is My Co-Pilot” ran through my head as I saw my truck rumble down the road.  It wasn’t me, nor Jan behind the wheel, it was the 17-year old team manager of the track team that I coach on her way home to get some things after her car wouldn’t start.  For some reason that classic novelty license plate ran through my head as I had a fair amount of confidence that everything would be fine.  But asking God to be a co-pilot couldn’t hurt! 

The funny thing about that license plate is that God doesn’t exactly do “co-piloting”.   Viewing God as the co-pilot puts the focus on ourselves and what we want to do.  While that’s the way of the world and pretty normal, the road to contentment and peace means sliding out of the pilot’s seat and into the passenger seat.  This leaves God to navigate, orchestrate, and show us what He’s doing.  There’s purpose to the position of Pilot because we cannot do it all on our own.

So as my truck rumbled over the hill and far out of my control I went about my business coaching and trusted God to bring my truck and my loyal and enthusiastic team manager back to our track meet.  I felt like I was meeting a need that was in front of me and I let God do the piloting on the rest!  There’s obedience and then letting the outcome go, which is tough to do sometimes.

What does it look like when we slide out of the pilot’s seat?  The view is different, that’s for sure.  I can summarize that things move differently yet they are orchestrated in a way that we could never imagine.

Take for instance the time I accompanied our youngest son Sam on his first preschool field trip.  We boarded a faded yellow school bus and made a run for the orchards.  The old bus was built in 1972 and was as “old-school” as anything; manual transmission, big-block engine, and all of the noise and harshness that you could handle.  The trip went great until it didn’t…the old bus sputtered, the driver gave a huge groan, and our bus suddenly ended up in the front yard of a rancher house with an empty gas tank.

Sam and I sat and observed the other kids, the teacher, and the other moms that were on the bus.  And after a few moments we decided that we needed to leave the bus and look for some gas.  When you’re out of gas you can call and wait for someone or go looking for some.  Since we weren’t going anywhere quickly I grabbed Sam’s hand and we embarked on a valuable life lesson of how to talk to complete strangers when in need.

The first two houses were empty but the third was the jackpot.  This house was not only part of an estate but it was going to auction in a few weeks.  We explained our situation, Sam flashed his long eyelashes at the lady, and we were given access to the garage and told we could take anything that helped.  Everything in the garage had to leave at some point and we were the beneficiaries.  What were the odds that our bus ran out of gas just feet from a stocked garage that had everything free for the taking? I grabbed a gas can full of fuel and we made it back to our class and thirsty bus.

And then I found out that buses built in the 70’s have the gas tanks very far inboard the body.  Rats.  There was no way my gas can was going to get fuel into the tank.  So we walked back to the garage, cut a section of hose with a razor blade, and returned to our bus.  An added step but all of our needs were met with that garage.  A few minutes later we had enough fuel to make it over the hill and to the orchard where we continued the field trip as planned.

When God is the pilot He may lead you off a bus that’s not going anywhere and teach you how to make new friends that can help.

A few days ago I was riding my bike on my favorite road at 7am.  It’s my favorite place to ride and when I can get on this section of road early there’s rarely a vehicle.  But, on this early Sunday morning there was a lone vehicle stopped in my lane of traffic.  I kept pedaling and as I approached the back of the vehicle and started to pass on the left the driver threw his car in gear and merged into the lane.  I pulled on my brakes and when he saw me in his mirror just a few feet from his bumper he stomped on the gas pedal.

We had miles of empty road and here we were, a guy on a bicycle and a guy in car, sharing a small section of road.  What are the odds?

He sped off and I continued my path back on the right-hand side of the road.  I thought my excitement for the day was over but minutes later I spotted the same car coming the opposite direction.

As he rolled towards me, I saw the drivers head stick out the window and he slowed to a stop, which I admit made me a bit nervous.  But his smile helped me put my guard down and as I slowed I heard him plead for forgiveness.  In his words, he turned around because he didn’t want me to think he was a “*?!k”.  He didn’t realize how fast I was riding!  I laughed and said I didn’t think that and that he shouldn’t let it ruin his day. 

When God is the pilot He may lead  you turn the car around.

Years ago I was attempting to drive home from Washington D.C.  I call that whole network around our nations capital “the belly of the beast” and for good reason; it’s a mess of wide highways, crazy drivers, and basically an asphalt jungle that is to be avoided at all costs.  And yet here I was, driving my truck in a blizzard on the beltways and highways that somehow connect me with my destination of home.

Driving for the conditions is usually recommended and snow, slush, and ice definitely warrant a steady hand and complete focus.  But in the front of my mind was the phone call from Jan where she informed me that our water lines at our house were frozen.  She was home with the boys, who were 4 and 2 at the time.  It’s never good to be apart from the love of your life but in this moment I needed to be home.  Now.

When a sign flashed that there was an accident ahead and the rest of the traffic slowed to a stop I took an exit and started piecing together roads that I thought would bypass the whole mess of people and snow.  I’m sure my passenger was skeptical but I was confident that if we kept moving it was surely better than sitting on a 6-lane highway. 

My plan almost worked but we found ourselves in the wrong lane with a small median/curb separating us from our destination lane.  I needed to be in THAT lane to go home and we were in THIS lane, which would take us back to the belly of the beast.  I didn’t want that.

So with a glance in my mirrors and and a leap of faith I slowed, crawled over the curb, and got back on the gas towards home.  If I remember correctly it was not a “small” curb!

I will always remember my passenger saying, “What if you would have gotten stuck?!” to which I answered, “That’s a question I’ll never have to answer…because we didn’t!”. 

When God is the pilot you may have to confidently change lanes.

Being a co-pilot means sliding over into a new seat.  It doesn’t mean leaving the car.  You can still be you but your heart will change and your perspective will certainly change!  There’s less happenstance and more Holy-Spirit led!  Do you see it?  Can you feel it?  It only happens when you slide over into the co-pilot seat.  Your dreams and goals don’t necessarily die when you change seats, but how you perceive them and work at them most certainly does!  God intervenes in a way that can leads us to do His will.

Anyone can pretend to be a pilot and we all do it at times.  It’s because we are selfish, bullheaded, and sinners by nature!  But there’s a sweetness to being available, being open, and being led by the Holy Spirit.  You may find yourself doing things differently.  You will have solutions that come from nowhere.  And you will travel the road of life from a new position with a loving leader.

Time to get a new license plate.