I visit Texas every year — usually at the worst time of the year (Summer). I know many of you who have made Mariners MV your church home are aware my relationship to the Lone Star state is spotted at best. I know I do a less than stellar job of diplomatically talking about Texas. In August, Texas is hot, really hot… all the time. It’s like a Finnish sauna.  Only, in the case of San Antonio, the heat and crippling humidity is inescapably everywhere. People in a sauna, after too much time, get too hot and leave it. Not so, in the home of the Alamo. But, family does live there. So, we go. And, in going, I am always reminded that despite my overdone cynicism, every visit is far more redemptive than not.

My father-in-law is a quintessential car guy. He knows how to talk about cars with the best of ‘em. He loves to talk about his first few cars with great enthusiasm. They were the good ones. He’s a very practical guy. He talks a lot about “value.” He is neither stingy nor excessive. He’s generous and thoughtful. He makes sensible decisions, especially when it comes to cars…always.

However, in this visit to Texas, there was something new and distinctly car-shaped under a cover in the garage. My mother-in-law’s practical mid-size SUV was parked there next to it. Under that canvas cover was an old memory encased in a shiny silver metallic flake exterior and a red leather interior. Bob pulled back the cover to reveal something that seemed to occupy a space outside the practical universe in which he always dwelled. Bob had acquired a ‘63 corvette. His intent is to fully restore it to its original design. At present, it’s a work, not yet fully completed. Practical Bob has driven practical cars for most of his responsible adult life. He drove back-to-back Buick LeSabres in the early 90’s. He then went crazy and jumped headlong into indulgence with a base model Ford Explorer. After that, two more for the front spots in the outdoor valet rotunda at the pricey hotel parking lots, next to the shiny Italian imports: Chevy Suburbans.

And now… A distinguished fragment from past aspirations — an undeniable classic.

He took me for a ride in it. To ride in a nearly restored classic car is to elicit a different response than merely driving in a “nice” car. I have friends that have taken me for a ride in their expensive imports. It’s fun. But, it’s abundantly clear that riding in the passenger seat of a car that is over 50 years old, tells a different story to people. That story — the story of restoration — is a much more compelling story than the one told by buying something new. We can’t help but connect viscerally to the narrative of something lost and then recovered again.

It’s the same thing we want for ourselves. It’s what we want for the world, our community, our neighborhoods, our jobs, and our families. We can see glimpses of the way things are supposed to be and in so witnessing, we smile, wave, honk our approval, or give a thumbs-up when we pass by. To see things brought back to even a tiny step closer to their intended design, we can’t help but be filled.

This Sunday, will elaborate on God’s restoration project in the world and what it means for people like us as we continue in our JAMES series.

See you soon,

Jeff