A lot of horrible things happen in my minivan.
It smells like damp boots and a lost french fry.
The radio blasts music that makes my ears bleed.
There’s often a lot of whining, begging for McDonald’s, and arguments, and sometimes it’s even the children who are doing those things.
(Mostly it’s me.)
The heater isn’t sufficient for our 1 degree Michigan winter mornings and it’s possible I have a hobo living in the backseat, if the stuff back there is any indication.
But also, it’s a prayer closet as my kids flop out the door and head into the middle school.
It’s a counselor’s couch as our family talks about school and work and friends.
It’s a transport device that helps us care for the ones we love the most– bringing food and friendship and sometimes loads from IKEA.
It’s a quiet space where silence can reign and God can speak (once everyone gets out and leaves me in peace). Days can be rearranged according to a plan that isn’t mine.
It’s entirely possible my minivan is a tiny, mobile mission field.
Albeit one with a musty smell and a possible hobo.
What goes on in your vehicle?