Before
I get started on 2016, though, I’ve got to reminisce just a little and travel
back in time. I will never forget that
cold, blustery day in 2007; I had just spent two weeks on the road traveling
all the way from sunny California to Louisville, KY to meet my new owners. I sat in the driveway on Lanfair in front of
a two-story colonial brick home, wondering why this family had bought me. Up to this point I had been a rental van
driven for business use.
Suddenly,
a slew of children came running out of the house towards me screaming like a
bunch of wild Indians. You would have
thought that I was a Corvette or something.
They jumped in, so excited to pick out their seats. The oldest child, who was eight at the time,
quickly and proudly chose the very back seat.
Little did I know that one day that eight-year-old would be driving me…
It
took me a while to become adapted to this new life of transporting these young
children and their countless friends.
Many drinks and crumbs were spilled upon my once clean grey carpet. Not only was I thrown up in and cried in, but
their mother—the main driver of me--was just a wee bit near sighted. She backed me into a car, two different poles
and ran up on several curbs. The years
sped by and the miles stacked up, as I drove to Boston, NYC, Chicago and Florida. Just as I was getting settled into
Louisville, we upped and moved to Paducah.
No more interstate and thick-traffic driving for me! Now it was all about rural roading and deer
dodging.
And
in a blink of an eye, that eight-year-old had his license… At this point, I had
over 170,000 miles to my name. I was
becoming quite decrepit looking and most owners would have put me to rest. But one person’s trash is another one’s
treasure and this 16-year-old found me intriguing. Maybe it was the fact that I’m from
California that we hit it off. Mostly, though,
I think he liked that he could drive around a large number of friends all at
the same time. At first the parents
wouldn’t let him drive me. I was
completely OFF LIMITS. But as he got
more experienced and gained their trust, they began to give in little by
little. I mean, let’s face it. If I got into a tangle with another vehicle,
I most surely would win. I’m kind of a
bully like that.
My
first big outing with my young driver was taking a group to Homecoming in
2016. It was such a hit that I was
allowed to chauffeur a group to prom. These
excursions just whetted the palette and soon I was in high demand. The summer of 2016 will go down as one to
remember. I may look like a white carton
of milk on the outside, but my teenage driver really knows how to channel my
inner Bentley {Soap Box Rant: Just for the record, most big white vans are not
creeper vans. I’ve been categorically
judged all of my life; on behalf of all my fellow big white vans, please get to
know us before you judge us. Okay, back to the story.} I went on a day trip to Kentucky Lake and saw
bison for the very first time. I went
bowling in Illinois and watched fireworks on the Ohio River. However, the van rides cranked up a notch
when my teenage drivers bought me an aux cord. This is when things got serious {some of you
may have noticed the plural word ‘drivers’.
Yes, teenage Grogan driver #2 had now entered the scene}. What a life, driving around #vanbabes and
jamming to the latest hits. Clearly,
though, my best moment had to have been when some friends from Louisville came
to visit and I was called a chick magnet.
That’s when I achieved a status like no other white van in history. Right around this time was when my Instagram
account came into being. I was living
the dream.
Once
school started, my teenage drivers (A Senior and Junior, respectfully) made me
the official McCracken County Pep Van. I
attended all football tailgates and games and was given special parking
privileges. My roof was used for such
things as bull-horn special announcements and couch sitting (yes, I once drove
around the parking lot with a couch on my roof). After one heated football game with a rival
school, some not-so-nice words were written on my hood. However, it was impressive to see the amount
of people who called and texted from our rival school apologizing on behalf of
this student. It gave everyone pause to
remember that a game is not worth getting heated and all worked up over. The event caused the presidents of both
school’s pep clubs to meet half court at the volleyball game the following week
and shake hands before the game. In a
strange kind of way, I was able to bring these two schools together.
With
fall break quickly approaching, my young drivers begged the parents to drive me
to Gulf Shores. Well along in my years,
I was a risky choice. But after some
serious praying and a week at the shop, I was a go. Driving south down the interstate felt like
old times. I was footloose and fancy
free. It was a great week of cruising
the beach strip with #vanbabes. I held
up well until the last two hours of our trip home. That’s when my age finally caught up with
me. My engine died thirteen times
between Nashville and Paducah. It got to
be kind of funny, having to pull over to the side of the road and start me back
up. Daddy Grogan would start me up and
take off as fast as I would let him so that when I died again they could cruise
at least two or three miles before pulling over again. We were all extremely grateful to pull into
P-town that night. I immensely enjoyed
what was most likely my last trip out of the state of Kentucky as currently I
am probated to local area roads only.
I barely
had time to recover from fall break before I was decorated up as the Mystery
Machine for Halloween. Fred drove me around
town and to a local haunted house along with Daphne, Shaggy and Velma. While that was a good time and all, it
doesn’t even begin to stack up to what happened next. I was entered in the Paducah Christmas
Parade. Clark Griswold—my new nickname
for my Christmas-crazed teenage driver—decorated me as Rudolph, sporting large
tree limbs decorated with Christmas lights out of each front window. I also had a lighted wreath on my hood
(acting as a nose) and lighted reins (ropes) hanging off the back of me with
#vanbabes holding them and walking along behind. Buddy the Elf stood on my roof, yelling many
of his favorite quotes, including, “THE BEST WAY TO SPREAD CHRISTMAS CHEER IS
SINGING LOUD FOR ALL TO HEAR!” While my
lights went out within the first five minutes of the parade and I looked a bit
redneck, I still somehow managed to win third place! I received $100 and a giant trophy that I
proudly display in my front seat. I am
still wearing the lighted wreath attached to my hood, ducktape and all. I’m quite sure that my festiveness had
something to do with Mama Grogan getting off with a warning for rolling through
two stop signs recently.
For a Big White Van, I’ve lived a full and long life. It’s been one unusual and engaging decade wrought with adventure. While I doubt that this happens, Griswold’s dream is to wrap up my decade of life by taking me and a van full of friends out west on a two-week trip after high school graduation. Word on the street is that they would drive me by day and sleep in me at night under the open sky. Of course, the issue with my engine dying every so often would have to be fixed, but there’s been talk of
So
this is the part of the letter where I take everything you’ve just read and
create some kind of life lesson to ponder and bring us all back around to the
real meaning of Christmas. You might be
wondering how a big white van could offer up any type of deep thinking
philosophy. However, being on the road
gives me lots of opportunity to reflect on things. And hauling young people around gives me a
window into their souls. What I’ve
noticed this past year is how consumed we’ve become with image making. I’m the perfect example of this. I mean, I’m a van and I have an Instagram account!
Have you ever contemplated how much time
we spend snapping images of ourselves in the form of ‘selfies’? Then, we perfect our images with filters and
such in hopes that others will gaze upon us and be impressed. We post our images to pages we have created
about ourselves in hopes that they will result in more followers and more
likes. Have you ever considered what the
word ‘image’ actually means? Webster
defines it as: a visual representation of
something: as (1): a likeness of an object produced on a photographic material
(2): a picture produced on an electronic display (as a television or computer
screen). Interestingly, God’s ten
commandments start with these words in Exodus 20: 3-4a: “You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in
heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow
down to them or worship them (emphasis mine).”
Now don’t misunderstand me. I am not suggesting that Instagram, FB or Snapchat in themselves are wrong. The danger is the amount of time we spend doing it. How we spend our time will always indicate what images or idols we are bowing down to. God’s Word tells us in Genesis 1:26 that He created us in His image to reflect Him. He sent His son to this earth in the form of a baby many years ago to save us from ourselves. To save us from our self-absorption and our self-consumption. When we turn to Jesus and put our hope and trust in him, we become His image bearers. Being His Image bearer means we are Christ followers who reflect Him with the hope of attracting others to Him and not ourselves. But are we more consumed about having our own followers than we are about being a Christ follower? Are we more concerned about the wording of our tweets than we are about the reading of His Word? Are we more concerned about building ourselves up to please men or building others up to please God? Do we live for an audience of One or a virtual audience of thousands? Little devices that can fit in our back pocket have become the norm. But should our preoccupation with them and ourselves be the norm? Has this preoccupation become so big in our lives that there isn’t any room left for Him? Wow, for a van I just did some serious preaching :)
To
close, I just want to thank the teenage drivers in my life for seeing the
opportunity in me. They could have
easily been embarrassed of my ugliness. They
could have focused on the fact that I’m a bit of an eyesore. Instead, they chose to take what most would
see as a lemon and make some lemonade.
They turned trash into a treasure and now we have a year full of unforgettable,
crazy memories. This is what Jesus does
for you and me. His forte is taking our
junk and rubbish and transforming it into something beautiful. He looks for the unlovely and the ordinary,
the lowly and the average. He’s not
interested in the Mercedes and the Cadillacs of this world who have it all
together and can basically drive themselves.
He searches out those who are willing to open their hood, admit there’s a
problem and allow Him to do some tinkering.
He wants those who will belt out some Carrie Underwood over the
speakers, move on over to the passenger seat and let Him take the wheel. May you sit back in 2017, let Him do the
driving and enjoy the ride.
Sincerely,
BWV
@thebigwhite_van
Sincerely,
BWV
@thebigwhite_van
P.S. Owen wants all of you to know that you can
rest easy cause he’s planning on taking me over in 2024.
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