We just returned from a family vacation to Orlando.  It’s the first family vacation we’ve taken in five years or so – although with our third son not present because of his service to our country, it wasn’t quite the whole family.

We did the normal kinds of things you do when families visit Orlando – Disney, Universal, Sea World, etc.  I wish I had purchased a pedometer before we went.  It would have been fascinating to see how many steps per day we actually walked.

Years ago, a cynical person told me that “a boat is a hole in the water where you put your money.”  If that’s true, then Orlando is the land-lubber version of that same hole.  I shudder to think how much money is spent every year by families, like mine, who are trying to create lifetime memories from these artificial environments.

It dawned on me as we were crawling along Interstate 75, a road that seems to be under perpetual renovation, that lifetime memories are created, not from man-made parks with rides designed to simulate danger, but from real interaction with the real Creator. 

At one point, I looked around the van and we had 3 laptops blaring and a portable DVD player holding two people’s attention like a mini-theatre.  The only one who wasn’t plugged in was the driver.  That’s when it hit me – we are so entertainment oriented we hardly have any down time when God can speak to us.

I’m firmly convinced that I’m saved today, in a large part, due to a broken radio.  You see, when I was in college I would make the one-hundred mile drive home nearly every weekend.  At one point, the radio in my car went out.  I made that trip week after week in dead silence.  I believe with all my heart that God allowed my radio to go beserk so He could speak to me about my need for Him.

It happened at a time when I was struggling with spiritual issues; especially the issue of my salvation.  Having grown up in church, I was very well acquainted with the gospel, but I had never given my life to Christ in a penitent surrender.  On nearly every drive home, the Holy Spirit would speak to me and the conviction he brought was palpable!

After having been saved, those moments of silence ceased being wrestling matches with God and became my private worship time. a welcome time with my Savior.  That car became a sanctuary.  My call to ministry was received during one of those trysts.  For obvious reasons, I never fixed the radio in that car. 

With all the personal entertainment choices we have available to us these days, I wonder how many broken devices God needs arrange for us to experience a national spiritual awakening?