Douche Bags....really? That's what my wife will say when she reads this post, she'll argue for the less harsh abbreviation d-bag. She's probably right, she's always right. Christians shouldn't be throwing around the d-bag word, let alone Ministers, then again maybe now I'll be cool like Driscoll, yeah right, lets ask the wife about that one too. She may even have harsher words for the next word policeman, and curious as to why I'm blogging about d-bags and policeman, implying I must have been doing something wrong, scratch that, been caught doing something wrong. She knows how tight money is around here, more so she knows how I quickly enter toddler mode and throw my temper tantrums when I find out she's gotten a ticket. So yep, cat's out of the bag, guilty 57 in a 45. That seems like a lot, but honestly on a Sunny day it didn't feel like it. As matter of fact, I didn't even realize I was speeding, which may make it even worse, if I'm racing to get somewhere because I'm late...I'm fine with getting caught and paying my fine. But its the ridiculous pace of 45 mph in what clearly should be 55 mph that's got me all up in a tissy. I saw the cop and for a split second thought am I speeding looked down, nope 55, well 57 according to his little gun. But wait why did he slow down and turn on his lights, poop (that's not the real word that came in my mind). Okay, Jeff think, um, oh yeah get your insurance. So I lean over to get the insurance card and a mound of receipts, ketchup packets, napkins, straws, spit at me from with-in the glove box, if I do find my proof of insurance its clearly going to take me a while. "I thought this was 55," I say in my defense. "No you just passed a sign." " Oh", I say, "didn't even realize I'd passed the bridge." "Actually its 45 all the way to the interstate, has been for some time", he smirks. I'm not real sure I agree with him on that, I've seen the signs at the bridge, but the whole way to the interstate, I don't think so. Officer D-bag, Yeah I said it well at least in my mind, he's not waiting, so I give up and he gives me a ticket not only for speeding but failure to provide proof of insurance, Douche Bag, of course I can plead my case in a month. Sureeeee!
This exchange and the subsequent feeling in my gut that some how I'm the one that just got robbed by the system caused me to think about my driving practices in general. I'm a good driver at least I think so, I mean really who thinks they are a bad driver. But I do know of one fault I have, I do not like to be passed, it probably has something to do with my favorite t.v. shows growing up, Dukes of Hazzard, A-Team, & Knight Rider all had incredible action scenes involving cars and lets just say they weren't driving in the slow lane. Okay, so maybe not speed, but I like to keep pace, which brings me back to Mound City Road, i did a test drive after my ticket, drove the whole way to I-40 got passed by a mini-van (not cool). On the way back into town, I had a line of 4 cars behind me by the time I turned off so lets just say driving speed limit on MCR is not going to be easy on my conscience. But now wanting to be passed goes deeper than, childhood memories of Bo & Luke outrunning Roscoe and Enis. I don't want to be the car that everyone else is looking at, and shouting the things I shout at other cars (see below). Why is this? Because I embarass easy? Does that make me humble or proud, most think that if you don't like to be embarassed its a form of humility, because your not going to be strutting your stuff for others to see. But lately I've been seeing my concern for what/how others think of me not as a mark of humilty, but of pride. Is it not that I think so much of myself I don't want to be thought of in any other light than positive a testimony of my pride. Me not wanting to be embarassed is really me wanting to be well thought of boiled down to fear of man. Jesus told the disciples when they faced persecution and ridicule, for them not to fear mankind, rather fear the Lord, He says it cooler than how I say it, [28] "And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. [29] Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. [30] But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. [31] Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.
(Matthew 10:28-31 ESV)
I've also noticed I suffer from a little thing called road rage, Oh I don't think I'll be shooting at anybody, but I'll shoot from my mouth with the best of 'em, "Idiot(s)" "Come on, Grandma!" "Flippin use your turn signal", these usually get expressed int he a.m. when I'm running late taking kids to school and dealing with the joy that is Marion School Districts layout. I knew I had a problem when my, 7 year old, said "come on, idiots" to a car who was waiting to go and couldn't because of traffic. Ouch, that' hurt, not because she got it wrong, that person was fine, unless she missed an opportunity to go, then I would join in, "yeah come on". Oh, wait. "No Riley", I explain. "They aren't really idiots, I'm saying this because I'm in a hurry. I shouldn't call them names. I'm sorry for setting the bad example."
So lets see where does this put me, oh yeah. Good driver...probably not, worse...bad heart. Its amazing to me how easy it is for me to look down at others, maybe if I knew them, perhaps it really is a grandmother in front of me, who's concern for their grandchildren is so great they refuse to take any chances. Or someone who just lost a child in an accident, maybe they aren't real sure of themselves and so they drive slow, who cares, what does it matter the reason, why can't I rest myself in God's provision to have me right where he wants me, which sometimes is behind a slow driving car, or right where he wants me in the cross-hairs of a radar detector, not so I can try an manipulate the good ole boy system that is Marion Police, but so I can say in the same vein of C. J. I didn't get what I deserved. I got better than what I deserved, how many other times I've sped excessively, driven with-out my seat belt/license, and even in my former life, drunk or stoned. No 200 bucks to fund the Marion Court System/Police Dept. is not going to be easy to swallow, but if It will teach my heart to be content in Christ. $200 is a small price to pay. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Rom 7:24-25). Maybe I should say, Wretched Douche Bag that I am! So Thanks to Jesus and thanks to Officer Stone, for taking the long way around and pointing me to Christ.
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