Here’s the video https://youtu.be/wlUVkepsPC0
I have an old Nissan Pathfinder. Ten years old, to be exact. It’s not a bad-looking vehicle. It’s silver. Apparently in 2016, Nissan had a glut of silver paint. There are a million of these Pathfinders around middle Tennessee, where I live, and 99% of them are silver. Makes for a fun adventure when I take Doris to the movies. She comes out after being in the theater for three hours and tries to get in 5 different cars before she finds the right one.
Not only does it still look good, but it runs pretty well. The Pathfinder, if you don’t know, is an SUV. SUV stands for Stuff it Until it Vomits. You can put down the back seats, open up the liftgate, and move a small village in the back of that Nissan. It is part passenger vehicle, part pickup truck, and part all-terrain vehicle. Gas mileage is not bad. AC still blows cold. Even the backup camera still works. After all these years, the thing still can haul a load of people or a load of packages.
But, you knew there would be a but; the Pathfinder has developed an issue. There is a little shudder when you are driving slow. Now I am no car guru, but I think there is a problem with the transmission. After 10 years and 150,000 miles, the transmission, the thing that makes the car go, is getting tired and starting to slip a little. So, I decided this week that the Pathfinder is no longer useful and I need to get a new vehicle. Maybe I need a fire engine read Tesla with all of the coolest bells and whistles.
There you go. 10 years of faithful service, 150,000 miles of experience, still some good function in it, but a little hiccup and the flash of a newer model and I decide old Brother Pathfinder is not useful anymore.
Have you ever felt that personally? Maybe your family used to come over for dinner all the time, maybe you were in the family text thread? You had a misunderstanding with the family and now you are on the outside looking in.
Maybe you feel it at work. You were the young buck in the office once. You knew how to keep the copier running, and where paper went in the fax machine. You felt useful at work until new technology and new people started showing up. Now you aren’t in the planning meetings, and it feels like everybody is just looking for you to retire.
One more, maybe you have felt that at church. You taught a Sunday School class. You sang in the choir. You were a leader in your church. Then, your gray hair showed up. (That will never happen for some of you Claireall ladies.) You started walking a little slower. Your transmission started shuddering. And now, you feel relegated to the back rows; you don’t feel heard or needed. You don’t think you are useful anymore.
Here’s the word for you: THAT IS NOT TRUE! Whether you are a Pathfinder or a preschool worker, just because you have a few miles on you and a hitch in your step, it doesn’t mean there is not some good tread on your tires. So here are a few pointers to remember when you start feeling like you are headed for the used car lot:
- Your value and your worth is set by the manufacturer, not the people kicking your tires. Remember the Kelly Blue Book. It was the standard for used car value. You always thought the other guy’s car was worth less than it was and your car was worth more. I started to get rid of my old Pathfinder and did a little search on what a new one costs. Wow, I’m sitting on a goldmine. Well, at least something worth fixing up. God made you. He equipped you. He is your manufacturer, and He stands behind your warranty. And He sees you as an amazing Kingdom resource. Don’t let the devil or some dunce make you feel like you have nothing to offer. Ephesians 2:10 says, “You are God’s masterpiece. He made you to do important things that He had in mind for you a long time ago.”
- The very best vehicles come with a little wear and tear on them. There’s a thing called depreciation. You lose about 1/3 of the value of your new car when you drive it off the lot. That means that the older cars have outlived depreciation and have a value that doesn’t fade. Your miles, your messes, your mistakes are all things that have made you such an asset to the Kingdom of God. Maybe your church or your corporation is trying to find the newest model without a scratch on it, but the lessons you have learned and the distance you have traveled is something you didn’t have when you drove off the showroom floor. You should be proud of every ding and dent. Psalm 73:26 reminds us, “My flesh and my heart fail, but God is my strength and my provision.”
- As long as you are still running, you can carry a load. Okay, I know I’m wearing out my metaphor so let me just say it in non-used-car language. God has a plan for you, and that plan doesn’t end because you are 65 or 75 or 85. Don’t stop. Don’t let yourself be parked in the garage. (There I go again). As long as there is life and breath in us, there is Kingdom work we can do. Look at the school bus. It is old and slow and not very pretty, but it carries the most valuable cargo we could ever imagine. I love Psalm 92:14, “They will still bear fruit in old age, and they will stay FRESH and GREEN.” Look in the mirror and say to yourself, “I am fresh and I am green.”
- Finally this, its all about contribution, not comparison. My old Pathfinder is not a Tesla or a Telluride, but it is useful, and fixable, and loved (sometimes). Galatians 6:11 says, “Don’t compare yourself to others. Just look at your own work.” You may not have the mental acuity of the 20-somethings; you may not have the social status of the hip young adults, but you matter. You have things to offer that others do not. Just keep your eyes on the road and Jesus and find your fulfillment in serving Him.
Okay, I feel better now. I still have a use. I may not be as active or as acknowledged as I used to be, but God is not finished with me, and I am not done. A little transmission overhaul, a trip through the car wash, and I will be good as new.