Fighting for Control

Jesus and I are wrestling for control of the steering wheel that is the directional for the car of my life.  It would seem as though I am winning, until I swerve into the left lane and oncoming traffic, but Jesus pulls car back into the right lane at the last moment.  This happens multiple times, until I finally get savvy to what He is doing, and begin to fight back again, even as He is saving my life.  One more close call, and I am fed up with His intervening in my driving, and jab His hands from the wheel with my elbow.  In that moment, though, I swerve the car in the opposite direction, and into a tree.  There is a sickening twist of metal, and the taste of iron in the back of my throat.  My body should be colliding with the tree with a sharp smack and cracking of bones, but something stops me, something protects me.  It is Jesus, throwing His own body over mine, to keep me from hurtling forward, as I should.  He, instead of I, takes the full force of the impact, and just like that, it is Jesus taking my place in the grave.

And given the opportunity, He would do it all over again.