The other day I'm driving down the road in my Mom's Toyota Corolla. It's not a very large car, by any means, but it's faster than walking...and gets good gas mileage...two things I think highly of right now, you know?
So I'm driving down the road...and suddenly I drive INTO (that's right! I said INTO!) the largest, deepest chuckhole I have ever seen! It was like a cave! I'm serious! This chuckhole (which I just like saying more than pothole...no offense to anyone named Chuck, by the way!)was huge! And it swallowed up my car.
I bounced out of it and felt a little like a Bond martini (only shaken AND stirred!) and drove on.
Well, later...I was driving down the same patch of road...and I remembered the chuckhole, and when I reached it, I swerved around it.
Whew!
Makes me wonder about some things:
What created a hole that big?
Why hasn't it been filled in?
The obvious answers are "the weather and traffic and wear"....and "the road dept. is too busy putting detours on detours that they just haven't gotten around to shoveling in some roadpack into that pit of despair in the middle of the street there."
Okay...but I'm still wondering:
Do I have chuckholes in my life? Is there a pothole in my soul large enough to bury a Corolla in? Do you?
And when I considered that question...I was struck by all the stuff (the ridiculous stuff) I had tried to...well....stuff into my chuckhole.
Chocolate, for example.
Can you imagine a chuckhole filled with chocolate? I can see that exchange:
Two burly roadworkers...in the heat of the day...repairing a chuckhole.
"Hey, Mac! We got any roadpack?"
Mac surveys the chuckhole. "You know, I been thinkin', Bernie...
(Bernie...Mac....that's funny! Wasn't even intentional...tee hee!)
"I been thinkin', Bernie. We're not gonna fill that chuckhole with roadpack. We're gonna use a little somethin' I like to call...brownies."
Sounds silly, doesn't it? And yet...I've tried to use food to fill holes. I've tried boyfriends...and work...and money...and...and...the list goes on and on, my friends.
A computer in a chuckhole? A checkbook in a chuckhole? What if you were driving down the road and saw a guy sitting in a chuckhole?
"Hey! What're you doing there?"
"Me? Oh, Carrie put me here. You know, to fix the hole."
Even typing that...I'm feeling a little ridiculous. And not quite bright.
How about you?
My friends...I should not be in the road repair business for myself. I believe there is Someone who is much more qualified at filling the soulholes we all have...and He uses stuff much stronger and longer lasting than chocolate...or cash...or a guy named Jeff.
lovingkindness...grace...forgiveness...mercy.
All better than brownies. Believe me!
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4 comments:
That is too funny...I think I try to stick food in my "chuckhole." I am a stress eater. I found you while blog surfing. I love your blog.
Thank you! :)
yep, yep... it's a never ending search for what we think can satisfy us.
ps wasn't bond's martini's shaken but not stirred???
Yes...it was...my comparison has now been corrected...so other Bond fans are not confused. :)
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