Mazda SUV's, State fans, and peace

To the lady in the black Mazda SUV with the NC State sticker on the back window, thank you. Most mornings, no matter what time I leave my house, I find myself directly behind you on the way to work. You drive slower than I would prefer and you take that last turn so painfully deliberate that I am afraid you may ultimately stop in the middle of the intersection. But thank you nonetheless for giving me much needed perspective. 

You may not know this, Mazda driver, but every time I see you pull out of that side street up ahead in the distance, I groan behind the wheel of my truck. And it's not because I am in some sort of a hurry – I always leave with plenty of time to spare and am never late for work. Rather, it's more because of the fact that I KNOW you are going to pull out in front of me and drive the way that you do. I don't honk or tailgate you, because I know that solves nothing. Instead, I seethe a little on the inside.

Please know, there is really nothing wrong with your driving. You always use your turn signals and you at least go the legal posted speed limit. I see you looking both ways before you make a turn and from my vantage point, it appears that you always have your hands at 10 and 2. Honestly, I want my kids to drive like you do. 

So, why am I thanking you, Mazda driver? Truthfully, it has nothing to do with my opinion of how you drive your car. You are a fine driver! The reason I am thanking you is because you have been teaching me a lesson these past couple of months that I have truly needed in my life. What is this lesson? Some might call it, "Don't sweat the small stuff" but I prefer to refer to it as, "If it's the little things that get me all bent out of shape, then I am the one with the problem."

I have found in the course of my 50 years on earth that it's the little things – life's minutia – that often frustrate me more than bigger events or setbacks that I experience. A hurricane rips shingles off of my house and allows water to pour in? No problem, we can clean it up and wait on the insurance to fix it. Can't find the remote control? I might lose my ever-loving mind.

So, Mazda driver, when you take that last turn so incredibly slow that it seems as if time stands still, I realize that it only causes perhaps a 2-3 second delay in my commute, a daily drive that is already filled with lots of traffic. Why does something so small, so infinitesimal, so minute get under my skin? Honestly, I have no idea. I mean, I KNOW you are going to turn that way. I expect it because I see and experience it so often. Nothing you do surprises me! 

Yet when you turn so slowly as I have come to anticipate you will, it still grates me just a little. And this truly is why I want to thank you. Not only because your driving has taught me that my struggle with impatience is far from over, but also because I realize just how ridiculous it is to be frustrated over things that absolutely, positively, truly do not matter. I mean really, how you turn that corner does not matter. At all. To me or to anyone else. 

Jesus said and did some incredibly wonderful things that are recorded in the New Testament. And while I can find examples of Him responding with righteous indignation against obvious sin and hypocrisy, I have yet to find any situation where He gets triggered over something trivial or mundane. Instead, He lives a life of peace because He is able to focus on those things in life that are most important and worthy of His praise and energy. 

In a world that seems to grow more chaotic with each passing day, it's not hard to find a host of reasons to be frustrated, if that's what you want. But I don't want to be frustrated. I want peace, now more than ever. And this isn't just the kind of peace I can muster on my own, but rather God's peace, the kind He alone can give that surpasses all of my understanding (Philippians 4:7). This is the peace that reminds me time and again of God's sovereignty and my need to let go of things over which I truly have no control.

So Mazda driver, when you pulled out in front of me this morning, I said hello to you, even though I knew you couldn't hear me. I chose to focus on the music I was listening to rather than the way you were driving, which again, was above board as always. And when you started that matrix-defying turn that stops the earth from spinning on its axis, I smiled and happily continued on my way once the road was clear. I'm not gonna lie – it was pretty sweet having a peaceful ride to work.