When our oldest started Driver's Ed., my dad made the comment that my husband would be the teacher. Slightly miffed, I rose to the challenge. True, my husband does have the patience of a saint (because he basically is one) but I was out to prove I could be a patient teacher of driving skills extraordinaire too.
Out we went and I am slightly pleased to say I only screamed four times. Mostly because the other children were in the car and I didn't want to lose everyone at once. My husband on the other hand, yelled alot. Where did that patience go? Left it in the ditch we almost landed in I'm guessing.
Acquiring the minutes for license acquisition was grueling. Finally we got there. Driving through construction was done fairly well. Driving through anything went fairly well. So, we were off.
Prayers were said. Test taken. License received. Now about that car... My mother-in-law said when they drive somewhere alone the first time, oh how you will pray. She was right. Especially after the horrific video we had to watch about new drivers and fatal accidents for our insurance. I cried during the whole thing. The interviews with the parents reduced me to the fetal position. I informed our new driver, "There will be no joyriding. Whatsoever." I received a solemn nod and a "Yes m'am." Oh, if said newest driver to our family knew the stuff I used to pull!
God, I know, will ride with our child. His driving lessons speak to the driver's heart, soul and head. It is my hope and prayer they will listen. Isn't there a song, "Jesus Take the Wheel?" This has become my mantra. And I know He will.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment