Hot and cranky, I was on the road headed home last Tuesday. Roofers had arrived at our house before sunrise that morning and, to escape the noise, I’d been out with a friend all day where my heat tolerance had been pushed to its upper limits. Admittedly, that’s not very hard to achieve. I couldn’t wait to get home, peel off my tight-fitting clothes and cute shoes, and put on something stretchy and cool. The previously mentioned roofers had arrived at 5:45 a.m. for two mornings straight with their hammers, nail guns, and flat shovels and I was tired and did I mention hot and cranky? As I was driving home, I was on auto-pilot while daydreaming of getting comfy, cranking down the AC, and stretching out for a while with my fan on the “hurricane winds” setting. I suppose the anticipation of all of my favorite things distracted me from my speedometer and I was quickly jarred back to reality by the flashing blue lights and a highway patrolman making a U-turn to get behind me. 

I pulled over on the shoulder and waited while he got his hat situated and exited his patrol car. This might be a good time to confess I’m no stranger to the law. You might as well know who you’re dealing with here. I’ve had brushes with the badge in my day. I may not look like the type, but underneath this Protestant Sunday school member, Highlander-driving, menopausal empty-nester, motherhood blogger facade is a checkered past. It started in my preschool years when I shoplifted a Charms sucker from the store and was forced to take it back and apologize. I stayed clean until high school when a handful of tickets for speeding and stop sign rolls started trickling in and on into college where the Mississippi State Campus Police had quite the file folder with my name on it bulging with parking tickets. Of course, there were the unsolved juvenile crimes that I got away with like when my squad and I stole some road signs and I only mention this because the statute of limitations has expired. It had been years since I’d gotten a ticket though. Maybe I was tired of living life on the run, but here I was again being grabbed by the long arm of the law. 

The officer came walking up to my window and proceeded to tell me why he pulled me over and how fast I was going versus the speed limit. I didn’t think the two numbers were that far apart, really. It was a four- lane highway and I’ve always heard they give you a 10 mile grace span. This was just a tad above that. Anyway, this was the point where, in the past, I’ve apologized to the officer and offered him some kind of excuse like I was late for a meeting at church or a doctor’s appointment, but I wasn’t in the mood to grovel on this day. Did I mention hot and cranky? Even though I’d been successful on several occasions in getting a reprieve with some of my well-worded excuses, it was 98 degrees and too hot for humility and flowery speech. Those encounters when I pled for mercy with contriteness in my voice must have taken place in cooler months when my humor and patience were more robust. I just shook my head as if to say I understood the charges and handed over my license and insurance card, so we could get on with the show. 

He went back to his car and I knew this could go one of two ways. He could come back after calling in my number and seeing my multi-year streak of keeping my nose clean and tell me to slow down and that he’d let me go this time. Or he could come back with a white sheet of condemnation in his hand listing a court date and a number to call to pay my fine. He finally got back out of his car with a piece of paper blowing in the breeze- obviously not unlike my money as it would soon to be thrown to the wind. He came over and explained the high spots of the citation and told me to drive safely as he handed me the “Violator’s copy.” I’m never sure what speeding ticket etiquette is, but the southern girl in me always defaults to “thank you” when someone gives me something. So, I thanked him, but it had the sincerity of when my Mama used to make my brother and me apologize to each other after a fight. 

This is just a silly story about me and a road I’ve been driving for so long at that very same speed- only this time it had consequences. I’d gotten so comfortable with the way I’d been going at that speed that I’d forgotten I might have to pay a price, one day. I’m certainly not the only one going faster than I should- figuratively and, yes, probably literally, too. We’re all moving faster than we’re designed to move and think and interact and work and connect. Everyday, our world is finding news ways to spin faster than it did the day before. Finding places we can cram in more and more. Moving us along in a hurry. Sacrificing quality for quantity. Streamlining systems. Getting us on our way to the next thing. In the process, there have been consequences emerging that we didn’t even realize were coming because, for so long, life’s been going at this speed and we’ve been lulled by the hum of this familiar pace. When we live fast and work fast and love fast, those things are eventually going to pay a price and I think we’re seeing that around us. 

Living life at this clip, it’s so easy to overlook people and the needs of those around us. In our stress, we can speak or type and not think through the consequences of our words. The quality of our work or calling may be compromised. To make it all fit, we might skip over our time with God and staying near to Him. We may be doing many things but not feel like we have time to do any of them very well. We can get overloaded and anxious and become short with each other. Relationships may stay on the surface because we don’t have time to devote to going any deeper with people. We might skip over modeling really important things for our family as we’re constantly cramming more in and something eventually has to go. Shallow relationships, thoughtless words said in haste, forgotten quiet times, less attention to detail in our responsibilities, overlooking the needs of others, widespread anxiety and mental issues. When we’re speeding in our car, it may take a ticket to slow us down and reconsider our choices. When we’re speeding through life, it may take some unfortunate event to stop us in our tracks to reevaluate how we’re doing things. I think we’ve all seen those red flag reminders, lately. They’re everywhere we look, really. It’s like everything around us is screaming- it’s not supposed to be this way! This way isn’t working! 

Psalm 46:10 is a timely reminder for us as we live in a world that’s spinning us around at a dizzying pace. “Be still and know that I am God: I will be honored by every nation. I will be honored throughout the world.”  The definition of still is- not moving or making a sound. Deep silence and calm. Synonyms include motionless, at rest, at a standstill. How often do those words describe us? Loud, fast, full, chaotic, busy living may be the biggest barrier between us and God and, without Him, there is no peace. He is peace. When was the last time we sat motionless, silent, and calm and really considered who God is and what this life is really about? He is our Creator, Redeemer, Provider, Protector, Sustainer. The Lifter of our heads. I hope I won’t let myself go a day without stopping to sit still and quiet in awe of what He’s done for me. “For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?”

Hope y’all are having a great week! If everyone will just send $1, we can get this ticket thing put to rest. 

JONI