I've often marvelled at the difference a minute makes. A minute can make the difference between life and death, triumph and tragedy, sometimes it is mere seconds that count. Think of the seconds ticking down in a football game, each one so critical. Compare that to our lives, and the grace of God that sometimes steps in and saves us from an awful fate, seconds count.
This morning around 5:20 a.m., R.J. left for work. He has about a six minute drive to work, and since he has driven this drive for sixteen years straight, he can do it with very little concentration. I am sure sometimes he is in auto pilot, and wonders how he even got to work in the first place. He has been stopped once for rolling through a stop sign at the end of our road, because he was on auto pilot. Anyways, this morning he was driving to work, when a young man ran in front of his truck. Apparently the young man had just robbed a convenience store to R.J.'s left, and set off an alarm. In his haste to get away, he ran straight in front of R.J. who just managed to miss him. In fact, he felt real sure that his truck grazed his body, just as he ran past.
Of course R.J. called the police and told them what happenned. It was dark and it happenned so fast, he could not even tell them whether this young man was white, black or mexican. All he could really tell was that he was young. All day he was just sick, knowing that he could have killed this kid. A kid who is probably the same age as our son, but one that is not as blessed as ours is. A young man desperate enough for money, that he risked his life to get it.
Mere seconds saved this boy's life, and saved R.J. years of painful remorse. Years of wondering had he done one little thing differently, perhaps leaving seconds later from home, could things have been different. I am so thankful that R.J. did not run over this boy and kill him. Sure he should not have been stealing (R.J. did not see anything in his hands, so it was probably a failed attempt). Sure he was in the wrong, and of course he should be punished. However, the mother in me and the father in R.J., would not want to live knowing that this kid died over fifty dollars.
Tragedies touch our lives everyday. Sometimes though, the hand of fate gently moves us a little off path to save us the grief of a huge accident. We stop and pet the dog, we roll down the window to let out a fly, we throw our hand up at our neighbor, we check to see if we locked the doors one more time. Not knowing that all these little gestures move us in space like the turn of a kaleidescope, and sort our fate out one second at a time.
peace :) shemelts
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