Lynn H. Blackburn

Image by ant.photos via FlickrAs I ran a few errands last week, a car pulled out in front of me.

He could have waited, but it wasn’t close enough to warrant laying down on the horn, so I let it go. (As if I could do anything about it in the first place).

But then things got a little . . . disturbing.

First, the driver didn’t seem to feel the need to pick up the pace. He meandered to the next road and turned right.

Too bad for me, I had to follow.

For the next mile, the driver developed close relationships with both the middle and right lines. His speed alternated between negative – ok, so that’s not possible – we’ll say really, really, really, really slow (happy now?) and very slow.

It didn’t take long for me to decide to maintain a healthy distance from this moron, idiot, individual. Especially since his head would, for several seconds at at time, disappear from view as he reached for some lost object which seemed to be in the floorboard of the passenger seat.

In dismay, I watched as he turned onto the interstate, and once again, I followed.

We survived a dicey merge into traffic and then the debate began. Should I stay back or should I take the first opportunity to weld his doors shut in my 2001 minivan?

After observing his driving prowess, I knew there was a chance he would choose to use the left lane while I was in it, but decided it was safer to get around him than risk being involved in the multi-car pileup this guy was prepping for.

As I pressed my flipflop to the floor and zipped (yes, you can zip in a mini-van) by, I couldn’t resist taking a peak at the object of my derision.

I can’t tell you much about him.

I sorta panicked when I realized the guy was cleaning his glasses.

Sweet mercy!

After I’d put a few miles between us, I started wondering about him. If he’d taken a few more minutes to prepare, he would have been ready for the drive. He could have retrieved the lost object from the floorboard, cleaned his glasses, waited for me to drive past before pulling out, and still arrived at his destination with time to spare. And without putting everyone in his path in danger while he was at it.

It made me wonder about myself and my journey.

Am I rushing into things I’m not ready for? If I took a little bit longer to prepare, would the way be smoother, for me and for those who are with me on this road?

Is it possible that what I see as a closed door, God sees as a speed bump?

A little hindrance, not to stop me from reaching my goals, but to slow me down so I have time to learn and prepare for what He has in store for me?

Instead of fighting the limitations inherent in my current stage of life, I’m trying to embrace them. (Hey, I said trying.) Instead of wasting energy plotting ways to escape, I’m trying to enjoy where I am. Instead of moping over each rejection, I’m trying to rest in His timing.

How about you? Do you feel like you’re spinning your wheels?

Maybe God’s holding on to your bumper.

Maybe He’s planning to let you go, just not yet.

Maybe it’s just a little too soon.

Psalm 25:1-5 ~ To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul. O my God, in you I trust; let me not be put to shame; let not my enemies exult over me. Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame; they shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous. Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long. (ESV)