Yosemite National Park, CA 2006: Pictured here in her prime basking in the sun while tracking snowdrifts, the Navigator has taken the Lings to all of the hard-to-reach places they could have ever imagined. No terrain, distance, climate, or any other obstacles have overcome the Navigator in her legendary ten-year run. One day, may she enjoy rest and adulation in her own museum!
From Trent Ling:
Approximately 250,000 miles in the distance, the moon rounds the Earth. Coincidentally, marking its ten-year anniversary in the family, my Lincoln Navigator has reached that same quarter-million-mile threshold. So, nowadays, cruising around town and spotting the moon, I think, “Wow, God, I’ve already driven there in this! Wow, thank you; that is quite something!” Yet again, God has reduced the unfathomable to the possible, and the possible to the already accomplished.
“What I mean, brothers, is that the time is short. From now on those who… buy something (should live) as if it were not theirs to keep; those who use the things of the world, as if not engrossed in them…” 1 Corinthians 7:29-31.
Purchased in 2000, the Green Machine’s odometer boasted a paltry 118 miles! From that moment, it has vigorously proven true God’s above-quoted standards. Many drivers tight-fistedly manage their miles, endlessly and eagerly run through cars like they run through shoes or relationships, and/or find themselves weirdly and widely handed over to their cars. Conversely, this Navigator was simply born to run and she landed into the perfect family for running.
In ten years aboard the Navigator, we’ve completed ten roundtrip treks across the United States (six runs North and South, and four tours East and West). In 2005, over the course of 29 brutal hours, we drove “non-stop” 1800 miles from Edwards, Colorado to Panama City, Florida. Why? Because though we’re zealous and strange, the Navigator shows herself odder still. In 2007, we thoroughly enjoyed a 70-day journey, logging over 13,000 miles, and hitting all four corners of the country and even bouncing through Canada. Why? Because we found the ride of rides and kept pushing the envelope. I could go on… And on and on…
For its effort and performance, the Navigator gets zero special treatment. Welcome to the family. Apparently, enduring the sweltering heat, humidity, and relentless sunshine of Florida fails to suffice. She proves game for the distant deserts, mountain ranges, torrential downpours, and the innumerable and harrowingly winding dark roads without guard rails. She’s driven through each of the Lower 48 States, and as of today, has yet to surrender even one solitary drop of oil. My son, Isaiah, has marked his U.S. map with strings signifying our domestic road trips. It actually just looks like the phone company had an accident on the map–color-coded and intertwined wiring everywhere! Though at ten years in, the marketplace offers more fully featured and aesthetically pleasing vehicles, nothing could possibly have ridden any better to the moon over the past decade or to school today.
A well-known and taken-for-granted member of the family, she would like to protest spending much of the past three summers in the airport parking garage. As time has grown shorter than normal, we’ve taken to the air. But, oh, how we long to get back on the road. My children, ages six and four when the Navigator arrived, have enjoyed some of their safest, deepest, most restful, and comfortable sleep onboard the Ling Machine. On occasion, while making roadway progress through the watches of the night, the kids have insisted that we not get a hotel before they have had the luxury of getting some better quality Z’s aboard our rolling home away from home. Our affection and appreciation for her leave us having not even considered a replacement. No doubt, the kids wouldn’t hear of it or tolerate it.
As we look back, we have not and cannot get our heads around it all. What God has accomplished with such a common, everyday item used for noble purposes confounds our brains. Though I’ve been part of it, I won’t ever “get” it. As in all things, I am just around for the ride, holding on as best I can. The scales could never measure our awe and appreciation for what God has done and so richly provided. Returning from the moon, our expectations meter has long-blown its circuits. Well beyond living the unimaginable, we have settled comfortably into the surrendered class.
Beware the sonic boom!
Please feel free to join and further the discussion via the options below. No email or website information is required to post comments (unless you seek the notifications offered).