In April 1979, as a result of some stellar driving in my dad’s Ford Thunderbird, I  proudly received an Alabama Drivers License from the Department of Public Safety. Less than two months later, as a result of some horrendous driving in my mom’s Pontiac station wagon, I handed that license back to them. I was only 16 years old and I had just accomplished one of the greatest feats of destructive driving in the City’s history.

It was a Saturday night, and my friend Carl and I were doing what every other teenager in town was doing, hanging out in the mall parking lot. The mall and the lot were crowded. For me, the perfect storm was brewing. A fight with my girlfriend, followed by a fight with the school bully, led to an impatient urge to leave as quickly as possible. It all came together to send my night (and my life) into chaos. 

In my hasty attempt to exit the lot, I swung too wide around a stopped car and hit the back of a parked car. Actually, I hit several of them. My left fender crashed over the back of multiple vehicles as I accelerated the station wagon. Thankfully, the wagon jumped out of gear at car seven. Yes, I hit seven parked cars. That was a record here for some time. It may still be. 

To make a long story short, and there is plenty more to this one, the police officer forgot to return my license during the investigation. I thought it had been suspended. I spent the next nine months thinking I was not allowed to drive. God used that time to change my life.  It began at my kitchen table in front of an 8” black and white TV. God met me there at the lowest point of my short life.  

One of the late-night shows I watched on that tiny TV was a religious program. It was an odd curiosity, but I enjoyed watching. The guy on the show said some things about the Bible that sank deep. For the first time, I understood that being right with God was not a default setting.  A response was required of me. God’s salvation is free because it’s a gift, but I had to accept it. A step of faith, no matter how small, is all God needed to pour out His mercy and grace on me. 

Jesus said, “I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.” (Luke 15:10)

So, I did it. I bowed right there in front of that little TV and prayed. In the simplest act of faith, I asked Jesus to come into my life. He wasn’t concerned so much about what I said, or how I said it, but that I was surrendering to the only One who could fix me eternally. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

My life changed that night. Not immediately, but still rather dramatically. Suddenly, I went from not seeing God anywhere, to seeing Him everywhere. There was an awareness of His presence that I had never known before. And with His presence, was a peace I had never experienced. The hole in my life filled, and I found myself deeply content.

I’d like to say I lived happily ever after, but I am still a work in progress. I have disappointed Him many times, yet He has never given up on me. I still have a long way to go, but after several decades, I think He is finally getting some compliance out of me. Ironically, it may never have occurred if I hadn’t wrecked all those parked cars. 

“God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it.” (Ephesians 2:8-9)