Together

So today started out kind of crappy. Several things had gone wrong with our breakfast routine, and the whole off-to-school thing. I won't go into details, but it was all my kids fault. Had to be. And then, I'm driving along the interstate on my way to a cold day of construction fun at the camp, mulling over the events of the morning. I'm contemplating the changes I'll want to implement, and the blame I'll want to assign and the punishments I'll want to wield when I get back. I'm fuming still, but rather proud of the way I DIDN'T unload on the kids, even though I had really wanted to do the badass dad thing to restore my sense of personal power, and remind everyone who's in charge.

I-26 is a particularly curvy interstate. Enter the woman in the black SUV, cruising along in the blindspot to my left. Enter the painting truck just coming into view as we round the bend near Rock Springs Road exit. Rush hour. MY rush hour. Brilliant. I hit the brakes, counting the dimes and now quarters of my brakepad budget as I slow dramatically to let SUV lady cruise past me so I can change lanes and avoid the life-changing encounter with the nice guys on the paint crew not so far ahead of me now. SUV woman is slowing at the same rate. "oh, I'll just slow down a little so the guy to my right can speed up and change lanes in front of me," I can hear her thinking. "Oh skubalon!" I think (one of those more useful Greek words from Bible School). No time to say it. Now I'm peeling dollars off my brakepad budget. (yeah, I've done the Dave Ramsey course). And SUV woman is holding out for great seats to the collision of the month. Finally I out brake her, likely because her SUV has antilock brakes and my old 89 4Runner is from an era where we actually knew how to drive. So, Brand New SUV Lady saunters on ahead while I deftly tuck myself in the narrowing opening behind her, managing to keep most of the coffee in the mug at the same time. (evidently we didn't need cupholders in 89 either)

Now, I'm fuming. Road Rage. And, as i suspect is usually the case, its a rage that didn't just appear on the road. Much more to it than that.

And look! SUV woman is slowing again to take the next exit. Which happens to be mine, as well. Now all of my creativity is channeled at crafting the perfect insult, the ultimate rebuke. I'm getting ready for the stoplight at the bottom of the exit ramp and trying to figure out how to stow my coffee mug, gear down, unbuckle my seatbelt and reach over to roll down the passenger window before she gets away at the green light.

Then, it dawns on me... I really should show a little self restraint. Yes, I'm going to show patience, and let it go. I'm really ticked off about alot more than this traffic event and her obvious incompetence, and she might have a learning disability or something. I don't know what her week has been like, and shucks, she might be driving that brand new SUV because she just finished totalling the last one on the weekend. I decide to show mercy, and choose to look the other way entirely. I couldn't come up with anything kind, so like Dad said to do, I didn't say anything at all.

Left turn signal shows its my turn to go and I ease away from the light to begin the more pleasant leg of my journey to the Camp. As continue reviewing what I might've said to that poor wretch of a SUV driver, I thought to check in with God,

"See that. I didn't blow. I held my peace and didn't vent my anger on that SUV woman. In fact, a little earlier, I sent my kids to school today really working at holding my temper and letting them go out with positive vibes.
Okay, neutral vibes.
Yeah, alright, at least unspoken negative vibes. I really worked at putting a good face on it.
I'm really doing better, aren't I. We're really getting somewhere, right?"

[to get the paradigm for the God part of this little conversation, check my first blog post about "Eternal"]

God was silent for a while. Silently smiling.

"I know that invisible smile," I think.

"I have so much more for you," He says.

once again I feel the smalling. And I glimpse for a moment His Strength. His Love.
My little score sheet flutters to the floor, and I try to scuff it behind me with a discreet right toe.
"I'm not keeping score, Eh?" He says.
"Yeah," I say. " I forgot."

And then, without words, and all at once, He said this, "I have put my own heart in you. Not defensive. Just strong. Stuff just doesn't need to affect you like this. My Love is in control of my anger. I am stronger than the moment. I see eternal outcomes, and not just temporary bursts of power. You can love and bless and BE. Just believe. Enter into your rest."

It was that and so much more that He said. But I got to see Him Bigger today. And I think of my sister in the SUV, on her own journey, on a road without rage. And I think of my kids, on thier own journey. With a dad. Without rage.
And my creativity rests, and turns, and looks to create again. To create my today. Me and God.

Together.