Thank God for Friction

Yesterday, I hydroplane.

It's terrifying.  One minute you're driving along the slick wet road, and the next minute, you're flying.  The tires lose their grip on the road.  The steering wheel seems disconnected from the car.  The vehicle swerves recklessly.

It's out of control.

But just as quickly, the tire rediscovers the road.  That clash, that beautiful resistance, keeps you centered in your lane and attached to the road.  

I don't want a easy life.  I don't want smooth sailing.  It's the friction that ties me to my path.  It's the clash against me that makes me function best.  This sticky situation, this disappointment, this complaint reminds me  of my need for God, of my absolute dependence, and of the reality of danger apart from that grip.  It's humbling and it's uncomfortable sometimes.  But it's safe. 

Those things I don't want in my life just might be the friction I need to get to where I'm going.