I didn’t mean to slow him down, but I merged into the lane ahead of him and I guess he wanted to go much faster than the speed limit.
He was trapped behind me for two, maybe three minutes and had to go 40 in a 35 mph zone until the car to our left moved out of the way. I saw his hands go up in frustration, saw in my rearview mirror the angry way he looked at me.
In a flash he was past me, probably driving at least 50 or 55 mph until he came to a red light and I came up beside him what seemed like only a few seconds later. He raced ahead again, zipping in and out of the lanes, only to be caught by the next red light – and only to find himself one car length ahead of pokey ol’ me.
All that work and all that angst, and he wasn’t much closer to where he wanted to be than I was.
I wonder how often I do the same thing. Push. Prod. Maybe even provoke. Only to arrive at the same place I would have without all the rushing.
I remember Mama reading to me about the tortoise and the hare but I think I may have packed that lesson away with the rest of my childish toys. I must have folded up the idea that slow and steady are OK along with the doll blankets Mama quilted for me.
I’ve little time for lingering now, little time for being still or even doing just one thing at a time, and I’ve fallen in love with efficiency at the risk of speeding past what is most important.
When the light turns green, maybe it’s time to ease up a bit on the accelerator and take life’s curves a little slower. Maybe it’s time to let God set the pace.
I started this 31-day series thinking that I would help everyone — myself included — see just how large our neighborhood is.
Turns out God kept bringing me back home.
I saw how my husband draws strength from me believing in him, not nagging him. I found I could be rigid with rules and with all the right things… and miss mercy for those I love most. I discovered that a friend needed to come to my messy home and sit on the porch and just be listened to while she talked through job options. And I thought about practical ways I can be a better neighbor to those who live near me.
I didn’t tackle world hunger or pack a shoebox full of gifts, but I feel like I learned important lessons this month — and I hope you did, too.
Thank you so much for following along.
May you be blessed and may you love your neighbor always.
Just this today… Are we fighting out of our fear or out of our love?
We have no shortage of battle ready Christians. That’s the problem. We need Christians who are ready to love.
– Ed Cyzewski, author of several books including “A Christian Survival Guide: A Lifeline to Faith and Growth,” “Unfollowers: Unlikely Lessons on Faith from the Doubters of Jesus” and “Coffeehouse Theology: Reflecting on God in Everyday Life.”
It was just a quick call out on Facebook — a question about what stands in the way of you loving your neighbor better — and my friend asks what to do when you don’t speak the same language.
The language barrier question has been rolling around in my head for days now, searching for some ideas of how to help my friend.
I stumbled upon a beautiful article written by a woman living abroad and later, this Facebook post from Humans of New York. May they both be a blessing…
Click here for the article: http://www.incourage.me/2012/09/partial-solutions.html
All along I’ve planned to pray for our neighbors around the world. Those who are sick and need access to health care. Those who are afraid and fighting for the things I take for granted. It seems overwhelming, so I put it off.
I miss a day of my 31-day series. And then another.
How will I — a woman who hasn’t taken the time to educate herself like she should on human trafficking or the Ebola outbreak– know the right words to say?
Then it hits me, and I begin.
Lord, help me — help all of us — to share our gifts with others. Take our medical skills, our financial resources, our knowledge of crops and irrigation and light us on fire. I believe you’ve put a passion within each of us, and I pray that we would use those talents to show love to your people. I know our gifts may seem insignificant to us when we look at the world’s problems: A tiny blog. A small business. A vision for a crazy invention.
But we serve a big God.
Let us not forget that, Lord.