I Was Running Late

I was running late. It started when mom’s caregiver arrived a few minutes later than usual, but I wasn’t concerned, as I headed out towards church and my regular midnight adoration time. I still had 30 minutes to make the 20 minute drive.

I thought I had time to stop at McDonald’s for my usual “wake-up” coffee. The car in front of me at the drive-up order site, however, seemed to have some difficulty deciding what to order, and kept changing their minds. I noticed the minutes were beginning to pass. When it finally moved up, there were 4 cars in line to the pickup window. More minutes passed. When I reached the payment window I considered asking the young lady there to just get my coffee, so I could get on the road faster. I didn’t have to ask; she very considerately volunteered, and I cut out of the pickup line and was finally on my way.

I missed the first light in town, but made the second, and thought I’d have no trouble arriving at church on time. Even the 5 cars in front of me, traveling at 40mph in the 45 zone didn’t trouble me too much; I knew they’d quickly turn off into one of the many housing tracts. But one didn’t.

When the speed limit increased to 55mph, it didn’t seem to affect the slow moving car in front of me, as it kept its 40 – 45mph pace. As we got out into the darkness and open spaces of the two-lane road, it curved and curved, and curved. No place to pass. The only thing passing, I noticed, was time. The car now close behind me, with its bright lights on also seemed anxious to go faster. But we didn’t. I drank my coffee and tried to not stare at the clock on the dash.

When we finally rounded one last curve, the car in front of me slowed to a stop. So did I. On the shoulder in front of us were parked cars with their lights on, and people walking nearby with flash lights. Steam came up from the radiator of a car which lay totally smashed, head-on, into a large tree. I saw no one moving inside.

The car in front slowly started forward again, as did I. Added help did not seem to be needed. The pokey driver in front, his mission seemingly done, turned off at the next crossroad. I sped up, hurrying to church. A few miles later, the emergency vehicles passed me, heading back to the wreck.

I arrived at church right on time but I think God would have understood if I were late, since I believed his angels may have my car from becoming the one smashed in the tree. I’ll never know what happened. A deer in the road? A car passing in the opposite direction suddenly in front of the vehicle as it came out of the curve? I gave thanks for being late, and prayed for the safety of those in the wreck.

I reflected on the 10 minutes I was delayed: the slow McDonald’s line, the long traffic light, the pokey driver, the endlessly-curving road. If I were ten minutes earlier, would that have been me coming out of that last curve, into a sudden, critical end to “my plans” for that night?

At that moment in church, I believed so.

Did someone perhaps lose his life in my place last night? Am I worth anyone dying for? Why would this possibly be? I don’t know, but I looked up at the monstrance and remembered that someone DID die for me, about 2000 years ago. And yet I still wonder, why would this possibly be? For me?

How many things are giving you anxiety because they’re not going as you would like? Late to a meeting? The baby crying? Burned dinner? No money for the mortgage this month? A child sick, or a parent dying? A lost job? Things we don’t want to happen; we had other plans.

One thing I’m sure we’ll never know, though, is how REALLY bad these things are, versus “our plans”. Perhaps these bad things are blessings, and are preventing something even worse from happening to us. We rarely see the wreck we avoided; being alive, we can’t see the death that – but for the grace of God – lay unavoidedly in our path.

Do not be anxious, and in all things give thanks. God IS good, even if sometimes that does not seem to be so.

Count your blessings, not your sorrows – for they may be blessings, too. Thank God for every day. Every day. Until that day you are safely with him forever.

Be safe, my friends.


P.S.
At church, I later picked up a book and noticed its bookmark, a card a friend had given to me. It read: “I am a Roman Catholic. If I am injured, or if I am sick, please call a Catholic priest.”

I thought of the events earlier in the evening. I put it in my wallet.