Posted by Mary Beth Dahl on April 14, 2014
As I zipped (the legal kind) down the highway, I pondered the day ahead.
Would being late to worship mean I missed that blasted greeting time? Should I sit in the back or my normal front left? What would I fix for lunch? Stuff like that.
I guess it was my deep thought that had kept me from noticing the Lexus trying to open my trunk with his bumper
Now normally, I like to teach people who tailgate a lesson.
You know, I drive slower, but today I waited until I could safely do so, and I moved over to let him pass, and then it dawned on me. I bet he’s going to church.
I had the joy of catching up with his backside at the stop light, and I followed him into the parking lot. I didn’t park next to him, like I wanted to, but I did glance over to see a family of four jump out and hurry their way into the education building. My poor eyesight and unwillingness to pull the binoculars from the glove compartment kept me from properly identifying anyone.
And other than being a good story to share at lunch, I didn’t think much of it UNTIL this morning.
I drive the interstate every day to work. It’s twenty minutes of people either going too slowly or driving like maniacs. (I, of course, always seem to maintain the perfect speed). This morning a fellow followed me closely on the little two lane road leading to the interstate, and as soon as it branched into four he flew around me in a flurry.
Of course, he had to slam on his brakes in order to cut off one of the three cars in front of me, so he wouldn’t miss the on-ramp. I watched him on the ramp, stuck behind a minivan with a ton of those stick figures plastered to its back window, and I prayed.
The prayer started like this: Dear God, I know you know where all the police officers with radar are right now, and then I paused and remembered my drive to church.
If you’re ever going to be in a super hurry to get somewhere, then church would seem to be the perfect destination. The guy on the interstate wasn’t on his way to church. Maybe he needed to get to his wife who was in labor or his kid who was sick at school, so whatever his reason for being reckless, I figured he needed a different kind of prayer. So I prayed for him and his tiny black sports car, and I hoped he would know that in the grand scheme of life, only God will be able to truly get him to where he needs to be.
These strangers are not our enemies. They are our opportunities to love and get nothing in return.
How have you loved your tailgater recently?