Who Is That On Your Dashboard?
If you know me well, the next sentence won’t surprise you. Today I was sitting in my car outside the yoga studio writing some cards… you know how I do whenever I’m early for something? A woman I see often at yoga came up to my open window and asked “who is that on your dashboard?” Of course she was referring to my Dashboard Wiggler Enlightenment On A Spring Jesus. Doesn’t everyone have one?
My dashboard Jesus (DBJ) is not the serious ceramic kind but rather the plastic wiggling on a spring kind. I explained to the woman that he was a gift from my nephew in our annual Christmas gift exchange. I knew the second I opened it that he would sit proudly on the dashboard of my Range Rover much to the chagrin of my family. This wiggling dashboard Jesus catches my attention often while driving around — particularly when I stop quickly because of some sh*** doing something st**. He reminds me that my faith is front and center in my life AND that I shouldn’t take anything too seriously. He also makes me realize that maybe the best thing to do is laugh off the things that are drawing my attention to others when driving instead of screaming about them. This may not work for you, but it works for me. Asking myself WWDBJD is something I should do more often than I actually do, but since I spend a lot of time in my car DBJ there improves my odds.
DBJ causes me to think twice when the car in front of me in the carpool line doesn’t pull all the way up. Sometimes after thinking twice I still rolls my eyes and make the face, but sometimes I don’t and sometimes when I do make the face, DBJ makes the face right back to me. DBJ likes it when I sing out loud in the car and play songs that make me smile over and over and over. DBJ also tells me to be quiet when I should stop talking and listen. Sometimes I don’t listen to DBJ, but sometimes I do. DBJ also tells people right away what kind of person I am and the chaos that is my car. It may be a Range Rover, but I’m still the owner. As my good friend T-Anne lovingly said ‘there is only one woman I know who is in need of intervention because her car is so spectacularly cluttered. This is Martha’s car…and she has a Dancing Jesus!!”
DBJ also creates opportunities for conversation, like the one I had this morning when someone said “who is that on your dashboard?’ When I explained to her that it was my way of saying I don’t take things too seriously and I really need more Jesus in my life, her response was “ I really need more Jesus in my life too, and I like the dancing one.”
At the end of the day, we all need something in our lives to take the focus off of us, cause us to perhaps show a little more grace towards others and to laugh more. DBJ is my go to for all of the above.
