Waiting for Bozo

So last night I was driving home. I was tired, I’ve got a mild cold, I was hungry.  Very hungry.

I’d just completed two errands I needed to run and was headed up towards my house.  Now the road I was on is a main road with a bad intersection.  Right next to a new shopping center, this road’s right lane becomes a right turn only lane dumping all traffic in it onto a new freeway bypass that runs up in my neck of the woods.

And even though this road’s been like this for oh, going on two years now (new shopping center being a relative term), every so often some bozo forgets and ends up trying to get over at the last minute.

Last night’s bozo had pulled all the way to the front, and was desperately blinking (and probably using hand signals too) for the car in front to let him/her go in front when the light turned green.  And I’m thinking, “Great, he’s holding up the whole line of traffic just because he couldn’t remember to get over,and rather then jut get on the bypass, get off at the next really close exit and loop back around, he’s causing a traffic jam.”

Of course, it really only took a few seconds of everyone’s time to let him in.  And as I pulled forward to go on my disgruntled way, this concept from Paul’s instructions on the Lord’s Table popped into my head “When you come together to eat, wait for each other” and I thought, hey, if it’s that important at the Lord’s Table, hoe much more important is it out here in the rest of the world.

And then the second thought hit me, I’ve done the same thing as that car, granted when the road was much newer and I didn’t know the lane was there, and not quite as dangerously, but still. Someone had to let me in.

Sometimes I’m bozo.

And I like it when people wait for me graciously.

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