All at a Red Light

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I had been at this particular red light before. In fact, for the past five years, I had been at this same intersection almost every Wednesday. We were on our way to music lessons, and as with most routines, the surroundings had long been taken for granted. The traffic was usually heavy but not at a standstill. The conversation in the car was light and spoken over mouthfuls of the standard breakfast of our Wednesday morning: a chicken biscuit. In the background, the lyrics of Stephen Curtis Chapman played and made their way into our focus for the day. 

Spotting What Was Once the Dream

The difference for this day’s drive started slow but came to a quick climax. The light turned red, and there was only a little traffic. I noticed the light because I was first in line, a place I could not remember holding at this light in five years. I noticed the traffic because of the car that was to my left. And time was suspended. The car next to me was the car that I had long ago dreamed of driving. The woman at the wheel was well-dressed and alone. And in a flash, all of what I had aspired to be – the success, the wealth, the perfection of it all – came back to me. 

Her hair was beautiful, her suit pressed, and her nails polished as she sipped her coffee. She was off, no doubt, to her important job, with important people in important places. She had probably left a beautiful, well-appointed home to the care of a maid. Her children were at school. Her husband was at his important job. At that moment, she represented the life I had planned out for myself – a stark reversal of the life God had planned for me. 

Reality

The red light seemed especially long today, but as the light turned green, I was jerked back to my blessed reality. Six of the most important people in my life filled my mini-bus (a 15-passenger van) that towered over the little sports car to my left. There were also biscuit crumbs, napkins, and various toys all over the floor. My hair was anything but beautifully in place, more like pulled back and practical, and I had not yet put on any lipstick. In fact, I wasn’t sure where it was. My “suite” was standard issue wash and wear and comfortable, nothing that required an iron. And as for the polished nails, well, they just weren’t. Oh, and I was sharing lemonade, not sipping hot coffee. 

I was already at my important job, which is 24/7, 365, by the way. I am always on call. My kids and husband are the important people I work with, and my job as a wife and mother is of the utmost importance. We had straightened up our well-lived-in home before we left for the day, but it certainly was not perfect, and no maid was coming. 

Intersections

Intersections in our lives are amazing places. At intersections, we have the opportunity to make long-lasting life decisions. But sometimes, we take a past intersection and its choices for granted. We forget His loving and providential guidance through all of the oncoming traffic. We forget until God stops us at a literal intersection. I feel so humbled by His patience and compassion for me.