My very first car was a white, 1980-something Chevy Celebrity.
My parents said however much money I could save up- they’d double, so I worked about 200 hours at the then-minimum wage of $5.25 an hour, and saved up my first thousand bucks. For $2,000 this beauty (well- one like it) became mine.
She was nothing fancy, but she was all mine. Nellie. That’s what I named her. (All the girls named their cars then, or at least the ones I hung out with.)
For quite awhile, Nellie and I did great. She got me wherever I needed to go. She was old but she still had it! She even managed to do 74 in a 55 the first day my probationary license ended and I drove my then-boyfriend/now-husband an hour away. Not that I’d recommend that 😉. Especially now that I have kids driving. Nellie is long gone, and I’ve slowed wayyyyy down since that day.
But anyway… this is the story of what happened to Nellie, and how God reminded me of an important lesson through looking back and remembering her, over twenty years later.
You see, there was just one problem with Nellie. Sometimes when she turned left (or was it right? I can’t remember 🤷🏼♀️)— her check oil light would come on.
It didn’t stay on all the time. It was only when I’d turned. So I figured there must be something wrong with the light. Because the light didn’t always stay on, (and because I was young and inexperienced ) never once did I once consider that the light meant I needed to actually open up the hood and check the oil.
What can I say- I was a dipstick. 😉 (See what I did there? 🤪)
Well- one day we might were on a highway, just pulling into the median, right by the old truck stop, and Nellie died on me. She totally broke down. “Out of nowhere”, she just quit. We had to push her the rest of the way across. My dad had to come pick us up.
I remember he didn’t get mad at me. He laughed. Said I probably should’ve told him about that light. I had worked 200 hours for that car. My lesson was learned:
“Don’t ignore check oil lights.” Noted.
Not even if they only come on sometimes.
Fast forward many years, and I’m married, a mother, an employee. Anxiety is trying to warn me over and over that something is wrong. My oil is low.
At first – it’s not all the time.
“Just on the left turns.”
Just when things aren’t turning out the way I had planned.
I ignore it. Write it off as normal. Keep trucking along.
Til I couldn’t.
Multiple miscarriages were my body’s way of telling me I was having a breakdown.
And eventually I broke down.
I just couldn’t do it anymore.
Couldn’t keep driving towards all the daydreams.
Couldn’t keep going and ignoring the signs.
I broke down and had a “come to Daddy” moment.
Hey Dad? (My Heavenly One.)
I didn’t know what this anxiety light meant-
but I kept ignoring it,
and now I’m broken down and I can’t keep going anymore.
Can you help?
And He did.
He didn’t get angry at me.
He didn’t say “I ‘towed’ ya so.”😉 😂
Just like my Earth-Dad, he opened up my hood, took out my old engine,
gave me a a new one.
(Took out that old, stubborn heart and replaced it with a new one.)
I learned my lesson in that season.
Don’t ignore anxiety.
Don’t just pretend it’s normal,
as if nothing is happening.
There’s only one thing that can turn off a check oil light properly, and that’s a fill-up. Fresh oil. It’s not permanent. It’ll need done regularly. I had learned that after that fiasco back in high school.
There’s only one thing that can turn anxiety off properly. The Holy Spirit. A fresh fill of His anointing oil. It’s not permanent either, though salvation is. Spirit-filling is something we need over and over. We burn through oil as we drive through this crazy life. We dry up. We require regular maintenance. We need a fresh fill often.
Sometimes we think anxiety is normal. And besides— “it only happens when…” Not all time.
Until it is all the time.
Until we hit our breaking point.
Until we just can’t go on anymore and we are stuck in the middle of a crossroad.
You know the good thing about that?
Usually we only make that mistake once.
These days, I check the oil in my van weekly and sometimes more often. She’s an old girl too, and while I’m old enough that I no longer name my vehicles- I love her because she was fully a gift.
I don’t ignore her lights, I attend to them.
And the same is true of my soul.
I no longer wait until the anxiety light comes on nearly always.
The minute it flashes, I know.
I’m low on oil.
I need to attend to that.
I need some time, just me and Jesus.
Or I’m going to get stuck again.
“Whoa, Nellie!” 🐎
That’s what Jesus says to ME,
when I think I’m going to power right through it.
“It’s time to pause.
Let’s look under that hood.”
And the Holy Spirit helps me.
Diagnoses me every time.
Sometimes I’ve gotten into works.
Sometimes it’s pride.
Sometimes self-pity, doubt, fear, discouragement, lack of rest.
Always- it’s less about the circumstance, less about where I’m at when I break down, and more that I forgot to top off my oil.
Forgot to slow down on my way to where He has me going, to make sure I’ve gotten filled up in His Spirit FIRST.
The longer we journey together, the more quickly I respond to the flashing light.
I keep oil on me, always.
Bible.
Praise music.
Journal.
I don’t try to press onward anymore.
I pause, right then.
Fill up.
THEN carry on,
flow out.
Keep on loving.
Keep on serving.
Keep on, keeping on.
It’s been years since I had really thought of old Nellie. 🤍 But God keeps bringing this memory up over and over this week, so I’m trusting it’s for a reason.
Maybe it’s for you, if you’re reading it.
Maybe you need someone to love you enough to say “Whoa, Nellie.”
Slow down.
You’ll get where you’re going, but it’s not worth breaking down over.
Don’t keep running on empty.
Don’t keep ignoring the warning lights.
(The racing heart. The twitching eye. The exhaustion. The irritability. The anxiety.)
Pause and get a fresh oil (Holy Spirit) fill.
He’s always ready to top you off.
And He’s the best Father-
You can call Him anytime,
and He will meet you right where you are.
And He won’t be angry- even if you think you blew it. 😘
From Full 