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This weekend we had a snow storm in Colorado Springs. So this morning's drive to work was rather snowy. It reminded me of an experience I had on my way to work a couple of years ago that I wrote about on my personal blog:
I know some of you out there probably struggle with road rage tendencies from time to time. Although I'm by no means a hot head on the road, I do occasionally find myself annoyed by the driving-under-the-speed-limit-driver, the pull-in-front-of-me-driver and the bad-at-merging-driver.
But do you ever have moments of deep thankfulness for a good driver? These moments come often for me. Because bad drivers are always before me, I find myself taking notice of the quieter more considerate drivers: the ones who let me in; the ones who follow at a decent distance; the ones who stop at red lights. I think of them as my friends. I always wish I could give them a gold star or at least a thank-you.
Today as I drove to work a bit white-knuckled because of snow-covered roads, I had one such driver behind me most of the way. He followed four car-lengths behind the entire drive, never rushing me or pushing me to go faster. Even though he could easily have passed (I was maxing out at about 35 mph), he stayed behind me, which I found a comfort in case I slid off the road. He was my snow-driving ally.
When I arrived at work, I realized he was also a fellow employee. As I walked in, I found myself wanting to thank him for his courteous driving ... but I felt a little silly.
It's very easy to get angry with bad drivers, but why not focus on those who are making the roads a better place through good driving? If you are one of those drivers, I salute you!
Maybe you see kind souls in other places besides the road. Who are your "road angels?"
For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. (1 Cor. 1:22-24)
I found myself in Santa Fe a few weeks ago, touring restaurants and historic churches with my wife.
Every church had a series of "stations of the cross" -- depictions of Jesus' painful hours leading up to His crucifixion. Every church had depictions of a bloody and battered Jesus on the cross.
There was a time when I'd dismiss such depictions, saying rightly that Jesus is no longer on the cross, but has risen victorious over sin and death. At present, Jesus is fully alive, interceding on our behalf, free from the tortuous pain of the cross. He had said, "It is finished," and I believed that the entire Jesus-on-the-cross thing was finished and should be behind us.
But I've come to a place where it's helpful for me to reflect on Christ's agony on the cross. It's helpful to remind myself why He went to the cross: to take upon Himself not only the sins of the whole world, but of more personal relevance, to take upon Himself each one of my many sins.
When I meditated on the cross in that historic Santa Fe church, with Jesus hanging on it, I better saw the significance of my sin, the consequence of my sin, the weightiness of it, the reality of it, the gruesomeness of it. And I saw the sacrificial love of God that brings peace.
When I look upon crucifixes -- not mere crosses, but Jesus hanging on the cross -- I'm reminded that the crucifixion was a historical event, something that really took place some 2,000 years ago, and not merely an "ideal." The cross is not merely a symbol, but a real place in real time where the Lord changed history and demonstrated His greatest act of love.
It is by the wounds Jesus received on the cross that I am healed. If I share in Christ's suffering, then I will share His glory and His power and His comfort as well. Jesus suffered in order to sanctify me through His own blood. He suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that He might bring me to God. He canceled the record of debt that stood against me, nailing it to the cross. I am reconciled to God through the cross of Christ.
I am thankful for the cross. Too easily I forget, and so I'm also thankful for crucifixes, how they draw me back to the cross, how they draw me back to Jesus, the suffering servant and risen King.
This morning, while catching up on my blog reading, I came across a fascinating subcompact Volkswagen, one that's been in development for a few years now.
Turns out that it's no longer a mere concept car, but is scheduled to be sold in China next year.
In addition to getting amazing gas mileage, the L1 can go about 75 MPH, will take you about 400 miles on a single tank, can accommodate a driver and a passenger, and has a Chinese sticker price of about $600. [Update: The actual price will likely be much higher.]
Not bad for a German-designed VW.
Yeah, it's basically a motorcycle wrapped in a car-like body. But unlike a motorcycle, you could drive it to work in the rain and not get soaked. And unlike an electric car, it'll be a snap to fuel up and go. And it'd pay for itself in less than a year.
I've only just heard about this tiny car. But I've already got a lot of respect for it. What a perfect way to get from home to work and back again!
Sadly, this non-tree-hugger is likely to have to wait many years for them to become available here in the States....
I'm in Los Angeles on a media trip. One of my team members and I flew in Saturday for meetings with producers at several media outlets. I grew up in the Bay Area of California and have been to SoCal many times, but each time I return, I smile. There is such a relaxed vibe here. It's reflected in the sunshine and palm trees, the glut of juice bars and nail salons, and the "whatever" timbre of natives' voices.
I cut no less than six people off on L.A. freeways yesterday. Not one person honked at me. One offense was particularly egregious -- I started taking a wrong exit, and instead of humbly accepting my fate, I veered back onto the freeway, weaving in between several cars, blasting over a median and dumping myself in front of a bus traveling at about 70 mph. No one blinked. In fact, I got the feeling that the surrounding motorists didn't even notice. It's as if they were saying, "Ok girl, get on in here." This was strangely comforting, as it made me feel accepted, like one of the SoCal working herd. And let's be honest: it allowed me to listen to my Black Eyed Peas uninterrupted by the din of honking horns and squealing brakes. Thanks, folks.
The laid-back loveliness continued as my coworker and I visited the set of Larry King Live last night. We overshot the exit by, oh, ten miles...so I called the producer (while driving, of course, as now I was grossly overconfident in my motorist skills) to say we'd be a few minutes late. She was completely understanding. "Don't worry about it," she assured us. "I just changed into my workout clothes, so I'll meet you in the lobby when you get here." All of a sudden I wasn't as concerned about my "I just stepped off a senior citizens' cruise" outfit. In L.A., anything goes. (Side note: While watching Good Day L.A. this morning, I noticed that one of the hosts was wearing ripped jeans, a terrycloth jacket and platform sandals.)
Larry's producer welcomed us at the CNN building, led us to the studio, and plopped us in chairs about ten feet away from Larry. He was waiting to go live, so he looked over and said, "Hello! Are you the ladies from Focus on the Family?" We said we were, and he asked how Dr. Dobson is doing. We offered a semi-professional response, then he went live with segments on swine flu, Bea Arthur and Mia Farrow. I listened while wondering what I would've said if someone told me in college that one day I'd be sitting in studio with Larry King. I then took a photo of him and posted it on Facebook immediately.
To top off the evening, my coworker and I drove downtown to the Staples Center, where we had box seats for the Lakers playoff game. I mention this only to make Lakers/NBA fans insanely jealous. You all know that I don't know much about pro team sports, but to my credit, I actually like (and can follow) basketball, so we had a good time. We saw Jack Nicholson, P. Diddy (if that's what he still calls himself), Tobey McGuire, Dustin Hoffman, Diane Keaton, Rihanna and a few others. Just another day, folks. Just another day. :)
Today we have more meetings, this time around with our radio friends here in SoCal. I need to pick out another semi-casual outfit that looks effortless yet coordinates perfectly with my new pedicure. I also need to decide which smoothie I'll order today at Juice It Up. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.
Do you have parts of the country or world that when you visit them, you just smile? That you feel at home away from home? Talk to me, people! I mean, like, only if you want to. You know, totally, like, whatever.
I mentioned on Thursday that my insurance adjuster thought that I'd totaled my Neon when I bumped into a mighty Ford Explorer.
Good news: After further evaluation, he concluded that it could be fixed for less than the pre-crash value of the car.
And, goodness, USAA is fast. They've already transferred $2,978.21 into my checking account, to cover the cost of repairs.
I've been a pretty careful driver for the past couple of decades. Today I'm even more-so.
So I was driving home after work on Tuesday, coming up to an intersection.
Short story shorter: I misinterpreted the speed at which the car in front of me would turn right, slammed on my brakes a bit too late, and plowed into her SUV at 20 miles per hour.
The result: a bit of a scratch on her Ford Explorer's trailer hitch, and a crushed front end on my Dodge Neon.
The good news: Nobody was hurt, the woman I hit was extraordinarily gracious, I happened to have full insurance and car rental coverage through USAA with a mere $250 deductible, I was able to coax my coolant-bleeding car to the dealership.
The bad news: The insurance adjuster's first inclination is that my car is totaled, meaning that the cost to repair it exceeds its worth.
Honestly, when I heard that news over my cell phone tears came to my eyes. This car has treated me well over the past several years. Sliding into the driver's seat every morning before work has felt as natural and comfortable as slipping into my coziest socks. And now it may no longer be part of my life. I know it's just a collection of metal and plastic and glass, but, as they say, if these blackwalls could talk....
Once I get final word from the adjuster, I'll have more to process. If you've gone through something like this, I'd sure love to hear your story.
Copyright 2009 Focus on the Family. All rights reserved. International copyright secured. The Line and Boundless Line are trademarks of Focus on the Family.
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