The Lesson

The boy (my two-year old, Luke) woke up at 4 am this morning.  We finally got him back to sleep around 6 am.  Somewhere in there, I managed to turn the volume on the alarm clock WAY up.  So when it went off at 6:20, Bethany and I about flew through the ceiling.  Then, I somehow managed to turn it all the way down, instead of just a bit, so I woke up late for work.  Sigh.

Why is it the only time you get stuck behind a slow driver is the day you’re late for work?  I came over a hill and saw a Crown Victoria in front of me.  I immediately thought “Uh-oh”.  Uh-oh was right.  This lady was driving 35 in a 50 mile-an-hour speed zone.  Double sigh.

Just when I was getting really annoyed with her, we came around a curve by a little church and cemetary.  She turned on her blinker light she was going to the church, and I thought (kind of nastily), “She must be meeting the girls for bridge or parcheesi or something.”  But then, she drove right past the church to slowly pull into the little cemetery.

Instantly a wave of shame and compassion came over me.  For all I know, this little old lady just lost her husband of 60 years and was going to visit his grave.  Or maybe that of a close friend, or one of her children.

The moral of the story:  we never really know another person’s story until we take the time to ask.  So take time out or your busy day today, and really engage in another person’s life.  After all, that’s what Jesus did.