My brand new 2006 Mazda does not have power windows (all to the good: one less thing to break) but it does have SiriusXM satellite radio. The previous owner thoughtfully subscribed to this service at some date before the car somehow ended up on the auction block, and I am the beneficiary. I hung out for a while at one of the country stations, then fiddled some more and found channel 75 on the dial: all classical all the time.
The programmers seem to know exactly what I like. Snobs would call it "soft" classical but I am more the Strauss "Blue Danube" and Smetana "Moldau" type than the John Cage type, and that's what they serve up all day, commercial free. It makes my soul soar above the coarseness of the 21st century suburb. The music of heaven will be something like Beethoven's "Sixth Symphony."
At first I almost forgot to thank God for this feature of my car, and to notice such personal attention to my heart's desires. The automobile couldn't have been more personalized if it had borne my monogram on the upholstery. This is a big part of moving deeper into the Christian life, I think-to see all fortuitous coincidences as God's favor on our lives. If a rainbow gives me pleasure, it is a gift from my Maker, who foreknew and planned the effect it would have on me.
When the satellite radio subscription expires, and my coach turns back into a pumpkin, and I plunge back from the rare to the commonplace, I must remember to beware of the prophet Jonah's pitfall. The Lord grew a little shade plant for him overnight, to give him relief from the beating Assyrian sun. I don't remember Jonah saying thank you for it, I just remember him complaining when it was withdrawn. I want to make sure I do just the opposite-to be thankful for the temporary respites, and to not whine that they are temporary. As Job said to himself, "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return" (Job 1:21). And as he said to Mrs. Job, "Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?" (2:10).