by Ron Henderson
Last week, my wife and I were out of town in Springfield, Missouri, staying with her kids and helping their church with Vacation Bible School. One evening, while driving to the church, traffic was backed up pretty badly on Battlefield Street. As we sat at a red light, I noticed a pickup truck approaching quickly in my rearview mirror. I remember thinking, Is he going to stop? Then, suddenly, he slammed on his brakes. You know those moments when time seems to slow down, your senses sharpen, and everything unfolds in slow motion? That was one of them.
The timing couldn’t have been worse for something like this. We had our two small grandkids in the back seat, we were out of town, and on our way to help with Vacation Bible School. Thankfully, the driver reacted just in time—he slammed on his brakes, his truck lurched forward, and then he cranked the wheel hard to the right. Tires squealing, he swerved into the entrance of a nearby parking lot and managed to avoid hitting anything. If he hadn’t, the impact would’ve been serious. He would’ve hit us hard—and likely shoved us into the car directly in front of us.
Afterward, my wife and I sat quietly in the car, both a little shaken. I was especially thankful that the grandkids were completely unaware of how close we’d come to disaster—they had no idea what they’d just been spared. I kept thinking about how bad it could’ve been: the fear, the screams and tears from the kids, the risk of injury—not just to us, but to the driver as well. And to top it off, I was driving my Ford Fusion—a great little car that’s paid off, super clean, and has relatively low mileage. Honestly, I don’t think I could replace it, even with good insurance. After dropping everyone off at the church doors, I parked the car and took a moment to say a quiet prayer of gratitude that God had protected us from what could have been a terrible accident.
Since then, I’ve found myself being a bit more mindful behind the wheel. Full confession: I’ve been known to drive a little aggressively at times. Ironically, not when I’m in my Corvette. For some reason, in that car, my wife says I drive like an old man. It’s probably because that was my dad’s Corvette and I cherish that memory. That car is definitely irreplaceable. Maybe that’s the attitude I need to have all the time behind the wheel, no matter which car I’m driving.
This morning, on my way to a couple of home closings for clients, I noticed several drivers behaving recklessly. One car was weaving aggressively through traffic, darting in and out of lanes like it was a race. At a stoplight, I saw a woman completely absorbed in her phone—so much so that when the light turned green and she didn’t move, a chorus of honking followed. Then, just minutes later, a car abruptly swerved across two lanes of heavy traffic to make a last-second dash onto an exit ramp.
For the love of God, put down your phone, slow down, come to a complete stop, wear your seatbelt, go the speed limit, and drive like your life depends on it. And if that’s not enough, drive like other peoples’ lives depend on it. Because it does!