The backseat of the taxi

I sat in a small sanctuary Sunday morning gazing up at three people huddled together on the platform. My good friend Ros stood on one side; Ros walked into my life – twice – and on the second time, I knew I had better hold on to her. On the other side was Jason, a fellow ex-Starbucks manager. When we managed together, he was getting his doctorate, but I had no idea it was in Theology. In the middle was Jeff, my husband, who was leading the worship this morning. Three people connected to me, now connected to each other, and I had nothing to do with it.

The company I work for is making changes and many may find themselves without a job. I’ve watch the effect this has on my team. There are those that fret about it, others are angry, a few obsess and are driven to figure out all the details before they happen; and then there are a few who peacefully say, “This has been a great ride, and I can’t wait to see where I go next.”

“It’s like taking a taxi ride,” I said. “You get in the back seat, tell the driver where you would like to go and let him get you there the best way he knows how.”

Sometimes the taxi stops and as the driver motions for us to get you out, we say, “Really? This isn’t what I was thinking.” Other times the taxi slows and we feel our hearts beat a little harder, a little faster. “This isn’t where I belong, it’s not even on the right side of town.” But the taxi driver motions for us to get out and we do. As we close the door we poke our head through the window and ask, “When will you be back?”

He just smiles and says, “When I come to get you.”

“When will that be?” we ask.

“Not to worry,” he says. “You focus on giving it your all and taking care of the people around you; I’ll worry about when and where you are going next.”

The three people on the platform all arrived in separate taxis and were willing to get out when the taxi stopped. They came together and I wasn’t driving, I wasn’t figuring it all out, I was enjoying the ride from the backseat.

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