. . . I pull myself out of bed early to prepare the day. Make oatmeal for my wife, who just hopped into the shower. Let the dogs outside. Set out some things for my wife to make a salad for lunch. Cut up an apple, put it in a baggie for my wife to take with her on her drive to her office. Make sure my daughter is getting up. She is almost out of bed. Return the the kitchen. Make two turkey and cheese breakfast burritos and pour a glass of orange juice. That’s my daughter’s breakfast, which I take to her. Room Service. Knock on her brother’s door, ensure he’s getting out of bed.
Now, at last, coffee for me in the kitchen. Read Psalm 118.
This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Save us, we pray, O LORD! O LORD, we pray, give us success!
Pray a praise for the Psalms. Pray for the family, immediate and extended. See my wife off. Clean up the counter, put away salad items. Daughter comes into the kitchen, ready to go. Son follows, wanting breakfast, which earlier he’d declined. He pours cereal into a bowl. It Will Be To Go, Right! I say.
All in the truck, we drive merrily toward their school, radio plays Country tunes today. Near the school, wait at a signal light for the left-turn arrow. An electrical company van in front of us is two car lengths behind the car in front of him. The arrow is green. The van doesn’t move. Honk! Not beep. HONK! Son says I over reacted. Says I drive like him, slow. Explain there’s a difference. Van needed to know it is time to drive, PERIOD. Son says again I over react, that I do it all the time. He is now getting under my skin. Feeling irritated. Annoyed.
Drop the kids at their high school. Drive toward home. Long stretch of two-lane road with 45 mph speed limit. Another van, mini-van, in front of me. Drives 35. No passing zone. Finally, I’m turning just ahead. Arg! He turns where I’m turning. We turn. Okay to pass now. Pass. Zoom past. Drive 48 now. Leave him in the dust. Don’t feel better. Worse, actually.
Home. Irritated. Annoyed. Lord?
I prepare my oatmeal and think to myself, “Maybe, it’s all because I’m not doing what I should be doing. It’s a reaction to not serving the Lord the way I should.” I’ve thought before that perhaps I need to return to the truck driving ministry.
Yet. . .
Ashamed. I was ashamed at my reaction to the utility van that wouldn’t go fast enough at the green light. Ashamed and didn’t want to feel the shame at having my boy point it out. So I became annoyed. I tried to explain it all away. I carried that irritation onto another van driving too slow for my taste.
Inhumanity is a horrible thing. Being truly human is being truly perfect. Some how, having been around six decades now, I should know better. Should behave better. I should be perfectly human in all ways. Especially in driving. I’m a professional driver, after all. I have a commercial driver license. I can drive the big rigs. I’m good at it, too.
Ego wants me to think of myself as perfected. PRIDE! I sorta keep forgetting I’m a sinner saved by Grace. Humanity is perfection. Inhumanity is flesh.
But, all is not lost. There’s a song I recall that has a line that sums it up the hope, “He’s not finished with me yet.”
By G-d’s grace we are saved from the punishment we deserve for our sin. By G-d’s mercy we are blessed with good things, things we didn’t earn.
Children, we are. We stumble. We fall. He picks us up. He washes our face. He says it’ll be okay. Then He gives us an oatmeal cookie! Praise His Holy Name!
Lord Bless, Keep, Shine upon y’all throughout this beautiful week.