WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM: Honk if You Love Jesus (or if Someone is Distracted)

      I'm not the type of person who honks my horn at the person in front of me when the traffic light turns green and they don't go. It's just not my nature- unless they just sit there and sit there and sit there, then my nature changes. Honking the horn is so impersonal. And it's like sending a text. You can read a text and not know exactly what a person really means. You can't judge a person's tone from a text. An emoji helps from time to time, but for the most part, it's just words. 

     Same with the horn. It's just a sound. And for the most part, it sounds angry. Even if it was meant to be gentle. By honking the horn at the stop light, I could simply be gently letting the person ahead of me know that the light has turned green and perhaps they were doing something else and didn't realize it. But they're still likely to perceive my honk as angry. 

     Recently it was all I could do not to lay down on the horn when the car in front of me sat still at a traffic light that had switched from red to green several seconds earlier. Two cars in front of the perpetrator had moved forward and were merrily on their way while this third car in line simply sat there, blocking at least eight of us behind it. I waited and waited some more and then decided a gentle peck on the horn might do the trick. The problem was that I was in my wife's car, and since I don't use horns very often anyway, quite honestly I couldn't figure out exactly where and what to press. 

     Just as I discovered what I believed to be the horn thingamajig, the offender lurched forward and sped off into the distance. And then it hit me. The automobile didn't have engine trouble. It didn't refuse to go into gear. The transmission wasn't faulty. The brake wasn't stuck. The tires weren't locked. None of that. 

     It was the driver. He (I caught a glimpse of a man driving the car) simply had been distracted. And when the light turned green, he had been visiting a faraway place somewhere out in LaLa Land. I'm pretty sure I know the reason why. He was looking down at his phone. That seems to be happening a whole lot more this day and age. People and cars sitting still at green lights because the driver stole a moment or two to look at his or her phone while they waited. And when the light granted them permission to move forward, they were too distracted to do so. 

     I'll admit I've done that before. I don't consider it texting while driving for two reasons: 1) I'm not texting, I'm reading. 2) I'm not driving, I'm sitting. These two reasons are lame, of course, and I shouldn't be looking at my phone at a stop light. Else I might get distracted. 

     The Bible has much to say about distractions. Proverbs 4:25 says to "look straight ahead and fix your eyes on what lies before you". (In other words, don't look down at your phone, be alert). Jesus tells us in Mark 4:19 that many people receive the Good News of the Gospel at first, but then are distracted by all the enticements and worries of the world, and they fall away. But probably the best example of being distracted occurs in Matthew 14 when Peter actually walks on water for a few seconds until he looks down and becomes distracted by the raging sea and its waves. Jesus is there to save him and gently reminds him not to be looking down and around when he should be keeping his eyes on the Savior. 

     I'm not anti-technology (I love riding lawn mowers, microwaves, cruise control, cable television, and four wheel drive trucks) and I'm not anti-cellphone. I'm just not sure I'm good enough at multi-tasking to keep everything straight all at once. Maybe when I'm at a stop light I should just look up and stay focused on the lights as they switch from one color to another. And perhaps when the cares of the world around me fight for my attention, I should look upward and lift my eyes to the One who is the true author and perfecter of my faith. So, if you notice me looking down and distracted, please feel free to honk at me. And I'll do the same for you. Gently, of course. 

WACKY WEDNESDAY WISDOM: Escaping from Captivity

      You see some interesting stuff when you travel halfway across the country in a truck with your wife. The reason for our recent adventure was to deliver some stuff, including the truck, to our middle son who lives in Lubbock, Texas. We set out an a Thursday afternoon and arrived both weary and excited at his front door on Saturday afternoon. We spent the first night in Jackson, Tennessee and Friday night in Elk City, Oklahoma. Our goal was to make Amarillo by the next morning so we could arrive in Lubbock by lunchtime on Saturday.

     Somewhere between Elk City and Shamrock, Texas- my wife and I laid eyes on one of the more interesting sites on our journey. "We've got to turn around and go back to take a picture of that," she beckoned. I obliged. It was worth the ten or so extra minutes to find the next exit, go back from whence we came, and proceed past the object of our interest on the other side of the interstate, take another exit, and then head back in the same direction we had been traveling before. (Were you able to follow all that? Don't feel bad if you weren't. I was lost, too).

     We pulled off the side of the road and snapped a few pics as several 18 wheelers blasted past us. It was worth it. The road sign read: "HITCHHIKERS MAY BE ESCAPING INMATES".

     Here were my immediate thoughts after reading the sign, in no particular order:

1. Poor hitchhikers. Even if you're legitimately and honestly trying to thumb a ride, ain't nobody gonna pick you up after reading that- especially if you're wearing striped pajamas.

2. Poor escaped inmates. You're in the middle of nowhere: tumbleweeds, no water, teeny little towns only every 35 miles or so, and now they've taken away one of your only good options. Especially if you're wearing striped pajamas. 

3. Poor prison warden. There's no way you've got any job security when enough prisoners are escaping that they have to put up a sign out on the highway to warn people. Maybe a few extra strips of barbed wire on top of the fence or something. Just sayin'. 

*Here's an idea: Everybody wearing striped pajamas has to be in their room (cell) by 9pm each night. And during the day, place guards in the towers to make sure the people in the striped pajamas don't try to climb over the barbed wire fences. 

4. Poor me. I will never wear pajamas with stripes again. 

     Jesus proclaims in Luke 4:18- "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me to bring Good News to the poor. He has sent me to set the captives free, that the blind will see, and that the oppressed will be set free."

     This sounds like a good deal to me. I was a prisoner at one point in my life. Not in the warden's penitentiary, but one within myself. The one where I couldn't escape my own sinfulness. But then I was set free. And I was set free by one who was wearing the stripes I should have been wearing. But they weren't pajamas. They were bloody stripes on his body received because of my transgressions. His stripes were my victory. It's a good deal for me and it's a good deal for you. 

     I didn't see any hitchhikers (striped pajamas or otherwise) between Elk City, OK and Shamrock, TX- but I kinda wish I would have. It would have made for a better story, even though there's no way I could have stopped to pick one of them up. I was too busy trying to make Amarillo by Morning.