Category Archives: Learning from our past

Happy with Haphazard

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Recently, I was cruising down an expressway when a pickup loaded with living room furniture passed me on the right. A second vehicle followed him, with an 18-wheeler after that.

All of a sudden the top item on the pickup’s pile let loose, a square-shaped easy chair upholstered on all sides. It fell off the truck, tumbling end-over-end behind him, heading straight for the following car. That driver stood on his brakes as my lane of traffic flew past, swerving to avoid the chair, ending up on the shoulder.

Behind him the 18-wheeler, which I saw in my rear view mirror, slammed on his air brakes producing a cloud of blue smoke as he veered into the center lane and stopped at an angle. I wondered how many vehicles had hit or bumped each other as a result, and was sharply aware of the split-second choices each driver had been forced to make.

The pickup driver continued on his way, unaware of the havoc he’d caused. If he eventually went back for his chair, the venom awaiting was surely plentiful, not to mention policemen with tickets.

As I continued driving, I thought about that freak accident and the person who caused it by not securing his load. We’ve all met people who travel through life leaving chaos in their wake, damages of all kinds. The question is, might that be me?

Am I careful to speak and do with an eye on what will be left in the rear view mirror? Have I ever gone for a laugh without considering the fall-out for every ear in the room? Have I avoided an uncomfortable social situation when I could have been a blessing? Have I backed away from a demanding conversation without considering another’s need?

If we aren’t careful, we can tumble through life knocking into people and stepping on their feelings like that bulky chair blasted helter-skelter down the highway. And what about God? Do we sometimes do that to him, too?

I wonder if leading a life marked by carelessness, tardiness and messiness might not qualify. I so admire Jesus for never evidencing any of those. He was never confused, never in a frenzy, never disorganized. He lived an intentional, controlled life, and as a result accomplished every good thing his Father gave him to do. He solved problems, touched tenderly, brought healing and spoke love, the opposite of leaving chaos in his wake.

I want to please this same Father, though I know I’ll never perform to the level of his Son. But the question “What would Jesus do?” is a good one. I know what he wouldn’t do. He wouldn’t trample over people, knocking into their feelings like a chair tumbling down the highway.

Jesus “received honor and glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” (2 Peter 1:17)

What a Gas

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It isn’t every day I get to spend 8 hours in my car. (This time it was a turn-around trip to an important wedding 4 hours from home, the daughter of my longest-friend.) A one-day road trip offers some nice perks, though: uninterrupted time for praying, thinking and listening to music. Clear weather and light traffic made driving pleasant, and I had Lee (my Aussie GPS buddy) to guide me.

Starting the trip with a gasoline stop, I decided to track my Highlander’s mpg. I’ve put 42,000 miles on this faithful vehicle in 18 months and wanted an excuse to brag about it.

Forty miles into the trip, a silver Honda Civic pulled up on my left, leveling off with me and tooting its horn. Trying to keep my cool, I didn’t look. Surely this person wasn’t inviting a race.

But the tooting continued, so I glanced over, thinking it must be a friend. The driver was waving her arm, pointing to the rear of my car and shouting. Although nothing about my car seemed amiss, I wondered.

“What?” I mouthed, hoping she’d repeat herself, and she rolled down her window. By now a line of irritated cars was following both of us, like we were the lead vehicles in a Grand Prix, but I opened my window, too. Over the rush of wind, I understood her shouts.

It turned out my little fuel door was open with the gas cap blowing around on its wire, not a major crisis but the cause for her heads-up. After nodding a thank you, I worked my way to the shoulder and corrected the problem.

Back on the highway, I thought about this kind stranger and the scores of other drivers who’d passed me noticing the dangling gas cap but chalking it up to a middle-aged woman’s wacky driving. “Thanks for nothin’,” I thought, until God’s heavy hand tapped me.

“Are you kidding, Margaret? How many times have you gone out of your way to help a stranger like Honda-woman just helped you?”

As always, he was right, and I was selfish. Over the next 40 miles I checked every gas cap I passed, hoping to repeat the good deed for someone else. But of course God has more in mind than mere duplication. His idea is that we lend a hand on a full time basis, not for credit from strangers but to please him. After all, this is the example Jesus set.

An hour later at a bathroom stop, I got my first chance. The restroom was sparkling clean except for one paper towel tossed on the floor. I picked it up and put it into the trash, a teeny-tiny, itsy-bitsy, mini-good deed.

By the way, my Highlander clocked 23 mpg, and if I can keep the gas inside the tank, next time it may do even better.

“Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds.” (Matthew 5:16)

Wild in the House!

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Last night at 1:45 am I was brushing my teeth, the last chore after a long day, when Louisa and her friend Sara came bounding up the stairs. “There’s wildlife in the house! Come quick! It’s big!”

This was a moment custom-designed for Nate, always a champion at man-against-beast within our home. He’d caged a squirrel, a rabbit and a bird, and demolished bumble bees, spiders and horse flies. But in his absence, it had to be me.

“It’s in the pop cans can!” they said, as we approached the noise. I hoped it wasn’t a fox, coyote or raccoon, all of which we’ve recently seen in the neighborhood. Our aluminum can recycling system is over-the-railing into a plastic garbage can at the base of the stairway.

“In there!” Weezi said, pointing.

All 3 of us peered over the railing. “It’s big!” they both said.

In slow, single file we snuck down the steps, Louisa in the lead, following my instructions to gently lift the whole garbage can and carry it outside. But when she moved it, the “big thing” jumped straight up, causing her to drop the can, scream and double-step up the stairs.

That’s when we saw what it was: a half-grown squirrel, frightened to death. All of us leaned over the railing cooing, “Awww, he’s cute!”

We found the garbage lid, covered the can, lifted it outside and set him free. But our encounter with wildlife hadn’t ended. As I reached to turn off the hall light, an 8” dragonfly emerged, the biggest, scariest, buzzingest insect I’d ever seen! Now it was my turn to scurry up the steps. With all the screaming going on, I worried our neighbors would soon appear.

Using the tip of an umbrella to control his flight from a distance, we wore him out until he fell to the floor where we caged him in a bread basket. He, too, tore into the dark night, thankful to be free.

On the way back into the house, we spotted a spider the size of a dime (eliminated today with a broom), and this morning there were mouse droppings across the kitchen counter and stovetop, hints of encounters yet to come.

We didn’t want any of this wildlife in our house, and interestingly, they all regretted being there. I know how they felt, having raced into situations where I didn’t belong. Once inside, it was usually difficult to get out. Occasionally damage would occur, bringing regrets and necessitating apologies.

God offers to spare us from such thoughtlessness, preventing us from running wild. But of course that presumes we trust his wisdom over our own. If we do, he’ll spare us a great deal of grief.

Today we figured out how our wildlife had entered. I’d left the door propped open while carrying boxes in, forgetting to close it.

Too bad they hadn’t asked God whether or not they should have come in.

”When people do not accept divine guidance, they run wild.” (Proverbs 29:18)