Jump directly to the Content

Back-seat Fighter

Would I ever learn to keep my comments about church antagonists to myself?

Holding his cell phone while driving up the New Jersey Turnpike, my husband acknowledged the caller, "Yes, I know who was in church today."

Let me guess, I thought. Walter and Catherine just happened to show up, again, on the day you were on vacation. They were hugging and sharing and, oh, just maybe let a few concerns slip out about the pastor.

Ending his call a few minutes later, Dan nodded. "They were in church again."

"Yes, I heard," I said, glad that my previous response had not escaped my lips, and proud of myself, too, for not sharing every thought that enters my mind.

Early in my marriage, I learned never, for any reason, to point, yell, grab the door, or comment while my husband was driving. When I gasped, his eyes left the road to look at me. He wanted a wife, not a back-seat driver. Once I watched as we slowly rear-ended a Suburban in a toll booth line. Dan was glaring at people laughing at my son's tricycle tied to the roof of our car. My last moment "Hey, Babe" got his attention ...

Support Our Work

Subscribe to CT for less than $4.25/month

Homepage Subscription Panel

Read These Next

What do you do when one program starts controlling the church?
From the Magazine
I Wanted to Die for Allah. Now I Live for Jesus.
I Wanted to Die for Allah. Now I Live for Jesus.
As a militant Muslim, I never expected to have any dealings with Christians, much less to befriend them.
Editor's Pick
Come Ye Pastors, Heavy Laden
Come Ye Pastors, Heavy Laden
Learning to walk under the weight of ministry's many hats.