The Day My Car Reminded Me To Listen To God

I recently upgraded from my very old‑school, “mind‑your-business-and-let-me-drive” vehicle to a shiny new hybrid. She’s sleek, she’s quiet, she’s efficient… and she is bossy.

I named her Eleanor, because she has the energy of a woman who wears pearls to the grocery store and files her taxes early. And let me tell you — Eleanor has opinions.

Every so often, usually when I’m minding my own business and driving the exact same way I’ve driven since before Bluetooth was a thing, she chimes in with a very prim and proper:

“Lane departure.”

Excuse me, ma’am? I have been driving this way my whole life. I know where the lane is. I invented this lane.

But Eleanor does not care. Eleanor believes in boundaries. Eleanor believes in structure. Eleanor believes in staying between the lines like a responsible adult who probably also alphabetizes her spices.

And since I drive about an hour and a half every day, I’ve had plenty of time to think about this. (Which Eleanor would probably call “mental lane drift.”)

Somewhere between her third and fourth “lane departure” announcement of the morning, it hit me:

The Lord does the same thing. Just… less loudly. And with fewer dashboard lights.

He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t beep. He doesn’t flash a warning symbol shaped like a car doing the cha-cha.

But He does nudge. He does whisper. He does gently say, “Hey… you’re drifting.”

Not in a dramatic, lightning‑bolt-from-the-sky way. More like a quiet tug on the heart:

• A conversation that doesn’t sit right
• A decision that feels off
• A moment where you know you’re veering just a little too close to the edge

It’s His version of “lane departure.” A reminder to stay in your lane, keep it between the lines, and keep going straight — even when life’s road feels bumpy, crowded, or full of construction zones you did not sign up for.

And honestly? I need those reminders. Because just like I think I know better than Eleanor, I sometimes think I know better than God.

Spoiler: I do not. Eleanor does not. Only God does.

So now, every time my hybrid queen clears her throat and announces “lane departure,” I take it as a two‑for‑one special: A driving correction and a spiritual check‑in.

Maybe you’re drifting. Maybe you’re distracted. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe you’re just trying to eat a Chick‑fil‑A fry and the car got dramatic about it.

But the Lord’s gentle nudge is always the same: Come back to center. Come back to Me. Let’s stay on the road together.

And as you go through your days, remember… everyday, keep it simple, keep it sweet, and keep it smart.