My dream car is a gold Mercedes Benz. Once while pumping gas, I noticed a well-dressed woman step out of this beautiful car. She wore a hat and heels; she had to be around fifty years of age. She might have been coming from a church conference, a speaking engagement, or a night on the town. I decided that this gold Mercedes would be my dream car. With making a mad dash to get out debt before I am fifty, that dream car will have to be paid for in cash! Wisdom says, don’t let a dream car be a dream killer, with debt wrapped around your neck. Just a sidebar.
Back to the conversation at hand. There are many destinations in this world and several modes of transportation. There is a plethora of styles, models, and makes of transportation. Many people say, it doesn’t matter how I get there, just as long as I get there. I want to introduce to you a mode of transportation that many of you may already know: The Holy Spirit. If you allow the Holy Spirit to be the vehicle of your dreams, you will always arrive in comfort and style. You will never become lost, because he knows your exact direction, even when you are not sure. You can trust His navigational system. His instructions are clear and understandable. He will guide you with His eye. His safety features surpass all that have been designed by man. If you listen to Him, He speaks more gentle than Siri or Cortana. He knows the answer to every question before you ask. The Holy Spirit will keep your feet from slipping, and if you do fall, He will pick you up.
His supernatural power amazes man and goes far beyond man’s understanding. For technology, we can write codes and programs and understand its workings, but no one knows the coding of the Holy Spirit. No one can understand His miracles, His discoveries, and no one knows how you made it out of a terrible situation.
On my first Christmas college break, I came home to visit my family. I wanted to go out with my high school friends, so I borrowed my father’s car and met them for a game of pool. We went for pizza afterward, and I knew that it was near curfew, so I headed home. A block away from the turn into my neighborhood, an eighteen-wheeler truck ran the red light; I had already proceeded to go and could not stop. As my father’s brand new red Chevy Corsica neared beneath this massive truck, I called Jesus three times. I blanked out, and when I came to, I was in the yard of the Texaco. Ironically, a man who worked for a funeral home in my city asked me if I was ok. The car was totaled, starting on the driver’s side, but I was in the passenger’s seat with one scratch on my hand and no injuries. No technology can explain this miracle.
Choosing the vehicle of your dreams can mean life or death. It could mean success or failure. What vehicle will you consider? One that will make an eternal difference, or one built according to man’s comprehension and understanding? I know that it was the supernatural presence of the Holy Spirit that saved my life for such a time as this.
by Harriette Thompkins