Last Friday, I posted the following article, which was supposed to be published in our local paper as well. Then Cheryl left a comment which made me re-think the entire article. It was one of those “I could have had a V-8” moments! I was so disappointed that the article had already been published – or so I thought.
But guess what? Due to a fluke accident (HA! We know better, don’t we?) my editor ran an article of mine from several weeks back, instead of this one. So, I rewrote the ending and resubmitted it. Here is the second version of:
High Speed Chase
My husband is in the wrong profession. He may be a pastor on the weekends and a landman during the week, but in my opinion, he totally missed his calling. He should have been a bounty hunter.
Several nights ago, at 11:30 p.m., my phone rang. It was Mark. He said, “First of all, I want you to know that I am okay.”
You know that any middle-of-the-night phone conversation that begins with that statement is loaded. I pulled myself out of a deep sleep and braced myself for the unknown.
He continued. “I got hit by a drunk driver. Or at least I think he was drunk. It was a hit and run.”
Okay. I have now found a tried-and-true substitute for caffeine. I was wide awake in an instant. “A hit and run? Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked him.
“Oh, yeah. I’m standing here at the other guy’s truck. He sustained a lot more damage than I did.”
The other guy’s truck? “I thought you said it was a hit and run,” I said, with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Remember, I’ve lived with this man for seventeen years. I know what he is likely to do in any given situation.
“Oh, yeah. I chased him down,” he said, as if this were the most normal conversation in the world. Why was I not surprised, not even a little?
But of course, I played the part of the delicate Southern Belle, shocked and appalled at such reckless behavior. I know my role in this relationship. “You what? Sweetheart, you could have been killed! What if he had a gun?”
“Aww, I stayed far enough behind that he couldn’t have shot me,” he said. I didn’t know you could hear a swagger. But I promise you, there was a swagger in his voice.
Silence. I honestly didn’t know which question to ask next. “Did you call the police?” I finally asked.
“Yeah, they’re here now. There were two guys in the car, and they got away. They left the truck behind and took off on foot.”
Sheesh! Why can’t my life be a little more boring?
So, long story short, I’m glad we have good insurance. His truck is now fixed. I have no idea what happened with the fugitives. And as long as I live, I will never understand why testosterone forces men to do the things they do. But I have learned to “accept the things I cannot change,” as the serenity prayer says.
But the truth is, Mark chased down those guys for a number of reasons. He was mad. He wanted justice. And he wanted his truck fixed.
Did you know that we have all been involved in a high speed chase, at one time or another? That’s right. You and me. Only we were not the pursuers. We were the ones being chased. Some of you reading this are still being chased!
All of us over the age of, say, twelve, have run from God at one time or another. Foolish as it may seem, we have tried to get away from Him. But you know what?
He chases us. He pursues us, because He loves us. We are important to Him. And though He will not force Himself on anyone, He will never give up the chase. More than anything, He wants us to stop running and let Him catch us.
When we do, He doesn’t offer harsh judgment or cruel punishment, like many believe. He offers forgiveness, mercy, goodness, love, and a place in His family. We get written into the will, to receive an inheritance from our Father.
All we have to do is stop running.
Psalm 23:6 “Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”