Am I a hot head? I like to think that I am not. In fact, I go out of my way to avoid confrontation in most situations. Especially in matters of road rage. There are too many news stories about road rage instances that have quickly escalated to one of the parties landing in jail for manslaughter. Frankly, I don't want to be either party in that equation.
I was surprised at my own reaction when a motorcycle tried to pass me on an exit ramp from a New Jersey highway. Clearly, the ramp is a single lane meant for one vehicle at a time; no exceptions for motorcycles who think they can go where ever they want because of their slender physique!
I moved my car slightly to the left, sending the driver a message that I was not allowing him to pass. After all, I own that space! At the stop sign, at the bottom of the ramp, he makes another move to come up on my left.
"I don't think so, buddy!" raced through my head as I hit the gas to make my left turn before he could beat me to the intersection; barely aware that I cut off a driver on the cross street.
I glance in my rear view mirror to see "the biker," as I now referred to the driver, make his turn. Once on the straight away, he revs the engine, zooming past other cars to catch-up to me!
"Oh, boy," I'm thinking, "this guy is asking for it!"
I come to a stop sign at a T-intersection as he catches up to me. Before I can make a move to get away, he is next to me motioning for me to open the window.
Normally, I wouldn't engage at all. However, it is clear to me that if I drive away, he's going to follow, and frankly, there is no way I would be able to out run him in my minivan.
"You have to be careful," I start to yell at "the biker," referring to his erratic driving as I roll down my window.
Then, he said something that changed my world in an instant.
"I've been trying to catch you to tell you that there's something hanging from your tail pipe!"
Wait. What?
The whole time I'm thinking that this "biker" is being the biggest jerk in the world, he was actually trying to help me.
Sure enough, there was something hanging from my tail pipe (car trouble story for another day!).
I felt guilty for having a preconceived notion of this guy as being the rudest, worst driver in the history of the world. When in fact, he was being a Good Samaritan. To his credit, he didn't give up on me when I clearly sped away the first time, not wanting anything to do with him!
How many times have I run from God when He was trying to help me? How many times has God tried to get my attention that I have completely ignored Him. Thankfully, God has even more patience and perseverance than my motorcycle driving friend.
