I’m a sales rep for a storage solutions company which isn’t too bad as far as jobs go, I’m just on the road a lot. One night I was on a long stretch of the Mass Pike, scrolling through Spotify on my phone on a 2000s Pop channel, and the song “Jesus, Take The Wheel” by Carrie Underwood comes up. I’d heard the phrase before, but never knew it was a song. As I was clicking away, I veered into another lane, I hear a horn and the headlights just get brighter and brighter and the next thing I knew I was buckled into the passenger seat with Jesus himself: robes, beard, and all driving my Altima. This would be a shock to anyone, let alone someone like me who would be considered agnostic at best. My heart was pounding, I found myself hyperventilating, and I couldn’t form words.
He saw my state and said, “I got it from here, Bro” and kept his eyes on the road. I was going through a crisis of faith with millions of questions going through my head, but the immediate situation was bringing up more: Jesus is real? Jesus can drive? Is Jesus listening to Southern Rock?
I worked up the courage to address him directly, but before I could open my mouth, he said, “Chill, this is my jam,” before turning up “Whipping Post” by the Allman Brothers. This kept going, I would try to learn a little more about the mysteries of the universe, but he would put up a “shush finger” as he vibed out to another noodly jam.
Since I didn’t pay for Spotify, I waited for a commercial as an opening, but he just snapped his fingers and the next song would play. Another miracle, sure, but come on, let me know what’s up with Heaven and stuff.
After another couple tracks, I work up the courage to turn the dial and say, “Excuse me, Mr. Christ, can you please explain what’s going on?” He just says, “You were about to die and I couldn’t let that happen. So let’s just take this drive together and you just enjoy the miracles, okay?” Maybe I should’ve chilled on the subject, but I said “Sorry, I just have a million questions about the afterlife and everything.” He just turned up the music and said, “That’s what I do for work. On road trips, I just like to zone out.” And back to the dad rock jams.
I guess I started to nod off because the next thing I knew I was behind the driver’s seat parked in my driveway. I don’t know if it was a dream or what, but whatever it was saved my life and fucked up my algorithm.