When I was a kid growing up on a farm in the Middle West, we owned a red IH Farmall H tractor and a 1949 GMC pickup truck. Dad had actually begun farming during World War II using horses; however, as soon as tractors became available, he got one. The pickup in the photo looks very much like the one we owned; the paint was such a dark green that it was nearly black. I loved riding in that pickup, and to this day I can easily recollect the smells inside – part grease, part gasoline, part straw, and part leather from the seats. But it was the sound of the pickup that made it special.
For reasons we never completely understood, the pickup truck made a funny jingling noise when someone would downshift. Mechanically, there was nothing wrong; the truck just made its own noises. When Dad would begin to slow down as he was entering town and passing the grade school, the transmission jingle would ring out clearly.
As I attended primary school in our small town, I never knew when I would hear Dad passing through. Dad might be on his way to the grain elevator or in to drink a cup of coffee at the café or even passing through to the next small town down the road where the implement parts dealers were located. In wintertime with the school windows closed, I couldn’t hear the truck, but I could hear it clearly when windows were open or if we were out on the playground.
There was something very comforting about that transmission jingle. When I heard that sound, I felt safe because I knew my strong handsome father was nearby. Even though Dad never stopped at the school, I always felt that if necessary, someone could have gotten a message to him had I needed him.
I had lots of adventures in that pickup, and I think it was also the first vehicle I drove apart from the tractors. Typical for a farm kid, I learned to drive tractors at age ten. Eventually we sold that pickup, and there were several others that succeeded it; however, none of them had the personality of the GMC.
There are times in everyone’s life when he or she feels isolated and alone, cut off from relatives and friends. This Christmas was a difficult one for many of our friends and family, and we also grieved even as we worshiped.
I think what each of us needs to do is to listen for the transmission jingles. Oh, you won’t hear the same sounds that old GMC pickup made, but if you listen with your heart, you may hear reassuring sounds of love from your Heavenly Father. “I am here. I am always with you. I will never leave you or forsake you!”
For some people, the sight of cardinals reminds them of God’s love. For others, it might be particular flowers or music. Some people find coins on the ground. The exact sights and sounds will differ from person to person, but the message is still the same: “I am here. You are safe.”
PRAYER: Father God, there are so many people who are hurting and lonely. Please send them tokens of Your love so that they will remember that You are always with them. In the mighty and precious Name of King Jesus. Amen.
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