Wednesday, March 2, 2005

Two men were in a car when they had to stop at a red signal light. The man at the wheel did not say anything. The other man by his side, fretting and fuming, said, "The time we waste at these red lights - why, a man could write a book!"

The driver still said nothing.

Finally the man beside him said, "Didn't you hear what I said?"

"No."

"How come?"

"I was talking."

"To whom were you talking to?"

"I was talking to God," he said. "I've been making it a practice every time I get to a red light to pray for one of my friends. It is wonderful how many folks I have on my prayer list and how many I have time to pray for in this way."

--------------------------------------------------

This is a story, had she saw it first, my wife Di would have had me read over and over again. Yes, I freely admit that I have been guilty of being a member of the fretting stoplight gang - those that worry that the light might not change for at least the next half hour. While at the intersection, the forming frown quickly turns into a frustrated comment and before you know it... the light changes... and life goes on.

The most important portion of that last paragraph, my friend, is this: life goes on. Yes, it goes on and goes on grandly and mysteriously and miraculously, regardless of stoplights and slow traffic. While we're waiting at that stoplight, another human has taken their first breath while another has taken their last one. In that short time we waited for the light to change, a couple said, "I do," while another couple said, "I just can't anymore..." In the time it took us to curse the never-ending stoplight, someone lost their job, their physical limb or their relationship. And when it seems like time stands still at that tiny intersection we are stalled at, Life, in all of its imperfect and graced ways, goes on... and on.. and on... like water through our hands...

So the choice remains with you and I. What will we do at this crossroad? And what will we do at the next crossroad that looms with a gleaming stoplight? Will we curse the waste of time or will we waste no time cursing? The next crossroad awaits and the light changes... and the choice is ours.