Commuter Traffic

This morning I went out in my sunroom, sat in my futon chair and read my Daily Bread devotional, read a passage from Buechner's "Listen to Your Life" excerpts and skimmed through a prayer in my Valley of Vision prayer book. It was difficult for me to focus because the hard drive was running a scan in the background: I need to get dressed and leave early so we can stop at the store on the way to school (should have done that last night); while I'm there, I should pick up some other items that we need; gotta make it fast so Natalie won't be late for Trig. Then my dog began pawing at the door to be let in, so I recited the last line of the prayer, which said, "Pardon my iniquity, for it is great."

As I washed up and brushed my teeth and gathered all my things for my work day, I noticed that this day I was noticably pain free: no joint aches or stiffness. Everything went pretty smooth, compared to most mornings and we were out of the house ten minutes early to allow for time at the store.

But something happens when I get behind the wheel of my car in the mornings. It's almost as if another person takes over and that person is always in a hurry, taking off like Dale Earnhart at the Daytona 500. As I approached an intersection, there were two 18-wheelers approaching from the opposite direction and I scooted my little Jetta right in front of them as I made a very risky left turn, all the while realizing that it was very risky and could have been devastating if something in the car had malfunctioned. But I was safe - for a second - so I sped up again, noticing a city bus in the lane just ahead of me. Immediately, with inward disgust, I thought, "Wouldn't ya know it!" Then Natalie said, "Walgreens?" and I realized that I had been so focused on that bus that I flew right by the store I wanted to stop at.

Not to be defeated, I decided to circle back and go to the store anyway. I felt blessed or lucky or whatever you want to call it because I got a parking spot right at the front door; but when we walked up to it, we realized that the doors weren't unlocked yet and the store hours were 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. Two gentlemen were standing there and I said, "Well, it's 8 o'clock!" One of them replied, "Yep! Well, here she comes. She's not movin' too fast, but she's comin." Of course, I couldn't take his word for it: I had to see for myself. As I was peering through the glass, suddenly the automatic door opened and I ushered Natalie in in front of me, through the "exit" door.

As instructed, she flew to the cosmetics area while I dashed to the ointment aisle. Moments later we met at the cashier, paid for our items as one of the gentlemen we had met at the door earlier said, "We've met somewhere before." He was being nice, but I didn't have time for him, so we brushed on by as he said, "Have a nice day."

Natalie had been telling me since we left the house, not to rush; that it would be okay if she was late to school; so now I was going to stop rushing. We had made our stop at the store and were actually ahead of our normal schedule. I began to talk to myself to calm down and as I entered the ramp to the interstate, she and I began to talk about what we had planned for our day. I merged into traffic without incident and managed to get right over onto the inside lane. Traffic was tame compared to most mornings, so I settled in at a good distance from the cars ahead of me, occasionally looking in my rear view mirror for any impatient drivers that might be coming from behind. There are always a few of those (not me, of course). I dropped Natalie off at school and she kissed me as she got out, saying "Be careful," and I realized that she probably does worry about me a lot; especially when I'm driving by myself. So I took a few deep breaths and decided to take my time the rest of the drive to work.

For the first few miles, it was like a well-synchronized river dance of cars, flowing in and out of my path, and I felt like the road belonged to me. Then I came up on a vehicle that looked kind of like an Animal Control vehicle and I couldn't see around it. So, I continued to tell myself to be patient...to just stay behind him and maintain a safe distance in case he stopped short. As I followed him through several traffic lights, I noticed that I was in the proper lane, because even though I was being forced to slow down and I couldn't see around him, we were passing sod trucks and heavy equipment trucks in the other lane. Then, as we approached the dreaded traffic "light from hell" I couldn't see around him, but we scooted right through, which was unbelievable. After we got through the light, we passed a dump truck on the right and I was then able to get in the right lane and around the box-shaped vehicle.

At this point, a red pick-up pulled in front of me before the school zone that requires traffic to go 20 mph; but he decided to go 5 mph, which was really getting on my nerves; but I took a deep breath and waited patiently as we got through the zone and prepared to turn off on my sidestreet. There, two other cars pulled out ahead of me and held me back until we reached the next light, where they turned off. For a second I got clear, but by this time I was finally settling into a moderate pace - which is where I should have been all along. As I made my final turn onto the street where I work, cars pulled out of the side streets in front of me, but we were synchronized and things were mellow once again.

Then...as I approached the parking lot where I needed to turn, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a silver Honda barreling down on me. I turned on my blinker and tapped my brakes a few times to give them full warning that I was turning; but they kept coming, sliding onto the left side of the road, just about the time I turned.

This is typical of my work-day commute. I am always calculating a strategy to get in and out of traffic; to be the lead car in my lane; and to be faster than the other cars (so they won't get ahead of me). You see, it frustrates me not to be able to see ahead around SUV's and delivery trucks and buses; and I hate it when someone cuts me off, what my kids call "japping." As I thought about this, I realized that I am not unique; but I am not just like everyone else on the road in the morning.

Everyone is on their way to their job where they have to punch a clock and if they're a few minutes late, they'll miss the prime parking and will have to answer to their boss. And, in this time of high unemployment, everyone needs to hang on to their jobs, so they want to get to their destination - and fast!

I had just processed this stream of consciousness when I came into the clearing on the last leg of my trip. I began to see how God is in control of ME when I am out of control; and how He will put obstacles in my path to make sure that I slow down; to make sure that I check the condition of my heart. Then, I realized that He has been doing this for me for the past 40 years! There have been several instances in my life where I was out of control for various reasons - inebriated, sleepy, stressed - instances that would have ended my life had someone else not been paying attention FOR me. Then, the most amazing realization came to mind: in spite of my stubbornness, my bitter anger, my impatience and my unjustified worry, I knew that God was waiting for me to "wake up and smell the coffee." I realized that I don't have to join in the rat race. For the past five years, I have had a job at a church, where I have set hours but I don't have to punch a clock; no one is going to chastise me if I'm late (only myself), I have my own designated parking spot, and people are always telling me what a wonderful employee I am.

Tears began to well up in my eyes because I realized that after five years, I should be unconditioned by now; and it made me sad to realize how hard it is to shake those rules for living that have been forced on us by the "powers that be" - modes that are not part of our nature, but that we find ourselves in as a result of living in a way contrary to it. I began to feel like a rat in a cage. I had always been told to "do this" or "do that" and you will win a bit of cheese. But it was only the conditioning: I never got the cheese. Instead, I blindly kept going on and on in the rat race, chasing after it. Suddenly, I smiled because I finally realized that I am free from that now. I might have to be in the daily race; but I don't have to be of it. I am set apart.