We were still in the driveway when I crushed his little spirit.

Try as I did, or did not, I couldn’t contain the whipping lash of the tongue. And my 7-year-old crumbled.

We couldn’t be late, you see. He had to get that cavity filled. All he wanted was Lightning McQueen, but who really knows where in the mountain of matchbox Lightning would be?

I didn’t have time for that.

I drove on with my boy crying and his 9-year-old sister quietly coloring in the back. He should have known better. We had to go. No time for this.

It doesn’t take long. It happens quicker and quicker these days. No sooner have I pulled the lashing tongue back in my mouth, when my spirit begins to churn.

Why couldn’t I just let it go?

Why did I have to yell?

Why didn’t I just slow down for a minute?

We pressed on down the dirt-lined highways of this sprawling city. Cars rushing right and left.

Making the turn for the interstate, the chiming from the dashboard startled me.

The bright orange light flashed in my scowling face.

Empty.

Yep. Low on gas.

I merged our Madden cruiser onto the six lanes of asphalt and watched the numbers slowly tick down.

36 miles

35 miles

34 miles…

Low.

No more numbers guiding me now. Just a single message. Low.

I slowed the truck to a cruise and watched the cars race past us. Zipping in and out and far ahead. Everyone around us seemed to be living the same emergency, while we carried on with our Sunday-style grandma tour.

It was somewhere between billboards and casinos when I heard Him,

Slow down.

You’re missing it.

If you don’t slow down, you’ll reach… empty.

I exhaled as the line of cars continued to speed past us,

I am going too fast.

I hadn’t even stopped to notice.

His whisper came again,

Take your foot off the accelerator. You are burning your gas too fast.

Slow down and look around.

These moments will pass you by.

I watched as the world flew by and turned up our tunes.

Darling artist girl squealed,

I know that song! I love that song! We sang that at church!

My little Lightning lover grinned into my rear-view,

I know this song, too!

I winked and blew a kiss to the back. Then the thought,

What if we run out of gas before we get there?

And, why do I keep remembering the self-made emergencies, but I forget to stop worrying?

His voice interrupted,

There will be a place. Before you get there.

You have time.

We exited past the palm trees and headed toward the red-painted cliffs.

He paints straight lines on rocks scraping the sky, but we forget He has painted a path for us.

We rush and press our feet to the gas, while our tanks burn empty.

But we forget He walked, and veered, and slowed, and stopped – and changed the world.

It was there. On the left. Just before our final turn.

Fuel.

And enough time on the clock.

I filled our chariot as I pressed kisses against the window to the grinning face on the inside. Slowing down to see his blue eyes light with joy.

My heartbeat slowed…

my spirit pumped full again.

 

Ecclesiastes 4:4-6

And I saw that all labor and all achievement spring from man’s envy of his neighbor. This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind. The fool folds his hands and ruins himself. Better one hand with tranquillity than two handfuls with toil and chasing after the wind.