Meditation at an intersection

Photo credit: Tim Gouw

There’s a large intersection close to my house. I use it every time I drive to work.

It’s a long light. A long, long, long light. Interminable.

Tonight I pulled to a stop just as it turned red, and I thought I’d time that unbearable light.

It held me up for a whole one minute and forty-five seconds.

Years ago there was a line in a novel I read – I think it was by Donald E. Westlake – where the narrator noted that a particular awful stoplight delayed him an “excruciating” forty-five seconds.

We’re kind of spoiled, you know? I live in constant, low-level fear that Divine Justice will teach me a real lesson in patience someday.

3 thoughts on “Meditation at an intersection”

  1. I am learning to appreciate forced kindness. There is a hint of God in the wait to allow the hordes to pass that doesn’t exist on the stress-laden offensively-driven limited access highways. And even though I appreciate getting from one place to another quickly, I also love seeing the subtle principal of grace found in the order God has made for us unruly humans. I love the verse “God is not a god of chaos, but a God of peace.” And that peace literally shines forth in every red light.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.