“I trust You!” I tell Jesus with a smile. I shift my hands on the steering wheel and glance over at Him in the passenger seat. He doesn’t move.

“I trust You,” I say again, reaching over to adjust the thermostat with one hand.

“I’m so glad I made You my lord. I really needed You – er, I mean, need You.” I glance sideways nervously. He doesn’t respond, so I look back at the road.

I shrug, then change the radio station.

I need some fuel, so I pull over at the next gas station. I grab a few snacks from inside, then slide behind the wheel again. As I pull the car back onto the road again, I pop some chips into my mouth.

Through chomping and chewing and smacking, I lean up and glance in the rear view mirror. “I trust You!”

Jesus’s expression doesn’t change.

“Gosh, it’s a relief to not be in control of my own life! I could never do it. Thanks for being my God.” I crack the window a bit. I’ve always been more comfortable with some fresh air blowing through and tangling my hair.

“This discipleship stuff is a piece of cake,” I proclaim with a grin.

After a few hours of silence, I tentatively announce again, “I trust You.”

I don’t get a response. “I trust You,” I repeat.

Nothing.

I peer over my shoulder into the back seat and realize the problem. “Oh.”

At the next opportunity, I stop the car on the shoulder of the road. I unbuckle, brush chip crumbs off my shirt, punch a button, and open my door. The grass makes a soft crunching noise as I take a few steps to get to the back of my car. The trunk is slightly opened.

I sling my hair over my shoulders so I can stoop down and peek into the trunk. “There You are!”

I fully open the trunk and see Him. A corner of His outline has been slightly bent. I frown. Guess I should have picked a car with a bigger trunk.

I effortlessly lift the cardboard cutout and tuck it under my right arm, closing the trunk with my left hand. The grass beneath me continues, crunch, crunch, crunch. After a few steps I lower Him into the front passenger seat.

After I’m buckled again, I take a sip of water and sigh. I crank the car. Before I shift into drive, I rest both hands on the wheel, grin, and look over at Him again.

“I trust You!”