Today was a looooooong day. Eight hours on the road. Yes, that includes stops at service stations, but they’re not the most relaxing of places. There’s something oddly deflating about the sat nav calmly announcing, “Continue for 100 miles.”
I’ve started measuring journeys not in miles, but in songs. How many tracks until the next instruction? That feels more manageable somehow.
Now, I have a friend who always remembers to pray before a long car journey.
That’s not me.
I tend to set off, join the motorway, and then somewhere between lanes and lorries remember to send up a quick arrow prayer: “Please let me arrive safely.” Short. Functional. Job done.
What I do have, however, is a banging playlist. An eclectic mix of Christian and secular, pop, jazz, indie, soul… the kind of playlist that only makes sense to me. And so, as I’m driving down the same stretch of road at a steady 63mph (apparently the ideal balance of speed and stopping distance, or so I’ve been told), I sing along. Loudly. Enthusiastically. Making up harmonies.
And somewhere along the M-whatever-it-was, it hit me. While I was driving and singing… I was also worshipping.
God was with me in the car. He hadn’t stayed behind because I forgot to pray properly. He wasn’t waiting patiently at my destination. He was there. In the middle of it all.
Now, travelling at 63mph, it’s generally unwise to close your eyes or light a candle. A big metal box surrounded by other big metal boxes requires a certain level of attention. And somehow… that’s okay. God didn’t require 100% focus from me.
In fact, He didn’t seem to require any carefully constructed moment at all. He just met me in the music. And not only in the obvious places.
Yes, “Gracefully Broken” still hits deep.
Yes, “Vagabonds” carries something raw and honest. But also… “Go the Distance” from Hercules? There’s something in that longing, that perseverance, that feels oddly familiar. And “The Simple Complicated Man” — “the only thing that I’m good at is loving you” — well… that line could quite easily turn God-ward. (I did warn you my taste in music is eclectic.)
I’m fairly sure no discipleship course or theological college is going to suggest “driving with a playlist” as a primary way to meet with God. It probably wouldn’t even make the top ten. And yet…
We’re taught that God is always with us. So why do we so often assume He’s only fully present when everything else is stripped away?
Maybe God is not confined to the quiet moments we create. Maybe He is just as present in the background noise we can’t escape. In the hum of the engine. In the rhythm of the road. In songs we didn’t even realise were pointing us towards Him.
Not waiting for us to arrive… but travelling with us, mile after mile.
There’s a line in the Psalms that says: “Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me.”
Even there.
Even on the motorway.
Even at 63mph.
The Reason for my Hope Blog 