My 17-year-old pickup truck has a pronounced virtue. It is reliable. It starts and goes wherever I steer it, and it’s never let me down. I’ve driven through Montana blizzards and endured bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic in downtown LA. In both of those settings, I could care less about the looks of the vehicles I owned. If it wasn’t first and foremost reliable, I would not care to own it because someday it would leave me stranded.
I remember once listening to a group of women in our church talk about their husbands. As the conversation progressed, they spoke about their favorite personal trait of their husbands. One woman said, “My husband is reliable, and I think it’s so sexy.” I once sat next to a film producer on a flight. She was en route to shoot a commercial for a car manufacturer whose ad slogan was, “You are what you drive.” At the time, I thought, “What a crock!” especially since our family car in those years was a Dodge Reliant, not known to be either sexy or image-building. It was, however, reliable.
Another way to describe reliability is the word faithfulness. Someone who does what they are supposed to do and never leaves an individual or a family stranded in a compromised place is a faithful person. Slick personal paint jobs, an untested character, and the grinding emotional debt required to maintain an unfaithful relationship can drain a life of its intended joy, peace, and happiness.
If we can be anything, perhaps being faithful is one of the best attributes we can possess. It is a gift of great value we can give to all who come in contact with our life. It is also a powerful witness because it reflects the heart and nature of God, who promised never to leave us or forsake us along a lonely stretch of life’s most challenging roadways.