Road rage isn’t generally a struggle of mine, unlike my husband (sorry, honey). However, road rage temptation always rears its ugly head when I travel a particular road. One day, during such temptation, God convicted my heart of a valid truth.
Where I live in West Virginia, there are two options for shopping. Charleston or Huntington. I tend to veer towards Charleston, heading to “Southridge,” which has two routes from my house—the long way consisting of entirely interstate, or, the shortcut, an interstate bypass that’s typically trafficked. My preference is the shortcut, which is everyone else in the valleys, hence the traffic. If you are a fellow Mountaineer, who’s familiar with this area, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about.
Let me paint the picture for the rest of you.
When taking the shortcut, it’s interstate until it’s time to exit and reroute onto the backroad. As I said, it’s trafficked most of the time. Somedays, however, are worse than others. This particular day was worse than others. Unfortunately, the severity of the traffic isn’t known until you are in the middle of it. Veering off the interstate, following a giant crescent-shaped road, I circle a McDonald’s and Bob Evans. The first light at the bottom of the exit is Jefferson Road, which is the road allowing for a shortcut. It bypasses the long way and re-connects back onto the four-lane passing through Southridge. Jefferson Road stretches in front of the restaurants I mentioned when exiting the interstate. Bob Evans is first, and Mcdonald’s is next. If I’m lucky, the traffic won’t begin until I pass Mcdonald’s. On this particular day, I wasn’t so lucky. The traffic began immediately off the exit ramp. (sigh)
Two right lanes are present on Jefferson Road. The furthest right lane leads to my destination, and the left lane leads to a less popular destination. I’m a rule follower. Therefore, I stay in the right lane and endure the course. Inching along as the light switches from green to red, I do my time on the right side I’m to be in. Not everyone feels the same way as I do. Some choose the left lane, knowing they are not headed in the direction the lane guides. They zoom up the left lane, passing everyone sitting patiently in the right, and at the turn of the light, they punch the gas and cut a fellow right lane patron off, skipping them in line.
Every time I sit on this road, I witness this phenomenon. Therefore, this day was no different.
The only difference this day was I was in a hurry.
I had my time planned out to the minute and I failed to plan to hit traffic. Therefore waiting in traffic, had me gripping my steering wheel a little stronger. The temptation to become a left-lane zoomer crossed my mind, but I refrained.
Fifteen minutes passed; I was finally the second car in line at the red light. The green light doesn’t last long, but I knew the following hue change was my time to shine. After the light, it’s smooth sailing.
My patience was growing thin but, in a moment, the beautiful hue of shamrock green blinged in my vision. As I lifted my foot off the brake, beginning my pursuit, I felt something amiss to my left. Peering to my side mirror, there it came. A truck. A left lane, rule-breaking truck which never waited one second in this line. He was coming just as I crossed under the light and began the sharp left turn. I knew what he was doing. He wasn’t staying in the left lane. No. He was speeding up in hopes of cutting me off.
I wasn’t going to have it.
I sped up too. The nose of my car crept toward the back seat of the vehicle in front of me. “There is no way this dude is getting in front of me. I’ve waited all this time. He’s not waited at all,” I thought. Praying the car in front of me didn’t hit their brakes, I continued pressing in hopes to prove my point, “I’m not backing down.”
Until I felt the Lord say, “Back down.” (ugh)
My foot dissipated within a split second of pressing harder on the gas. I pulled back from the car ahead, allowing the truck to veer in front of me, and we headed simultaneously to our destination.
In those seconds, God reminded me of heaven.
In Matthew 20, Jesus speaks a parable about this very idea. He tells a story of a landowner needing workers for his vineyard. He goes into town early in the morning and finds workers who agree to an allotted amount for a day’s work. At noon, he finds more workers that agree to the same pay. At five o’clock in the evening, more workers come. Regardless of how much time they worked, every worker all received the same wage. The workers working the longest protested. And the landowner responded profoundly, “Friend, I haven’t been unfair. Didn’t you agree to work all day for the usual wage? Take your money and go. I wanted to pay the last worker the same as you. Is it against the law for me to do what I want with my money? Should you be jealous because I am kind to others?” (Matt. 20:13-14 NLT)
Jesus follows the parable up with this, “So those who are last now will be first then, and those who are first will be last.”
I abided by the rules and waited my time. Therefore, I felt entitled to arrive at Southridge before the truck in the left lane. But, the truth of heaven taught me a lesson that day. Those who spent their entire lives, diligently and patiently working for the Lord are not privileged to enter the pearly gates before someone who’s blazed up the left lane, breaking every rule, and never spent one minute working for the Lord, but yet before their last breath, they received Christ.
You see, the truck and I had the same final destination, Southridge. And so does every believer entering heaven regardless of the amount of earthly time they’ve known the Lord.
Our destination is eternity with Him.
So, the next time you are waiting in traffic and your flesh wells up with an urge towards road rage because a driver is trying to cut you off, I hope you can remember this truth. Take a deep breath. Let off the gas. And remember, “The first will be last,” and let them over. They’ll be no road rage in heaven, so why should we allow it now?
Love you friends,
Erika
