It’s no secret. I have a mild road rage. Following behind slow drivers in the fast lane drives me into a vocal frenzy. If only they could hear me. I try to help them through subtle hand gestures, those that suggest they move into the lane a few feet to the right. Most of them don’t appear to speak my sign language.
On a recent road trip from Atlanta to Charlotte, phlegmatic drivers occupied the fast and slow lanes on a two-lane highway. My voice grew hoarser and hoarser throughout the afternoon. During this time, I also prayed and sang worship songs. Much like James of the Bible writes about in his letter, with the same mouth I praised God and cursed those made in His image. In the same breath I sang words of praise and then condemned drivers who failed to keep the pace. I knew this shouldn’t be so.
In the midst of my tantrum, I paused, turning my attention to Jesus. I shared with Him my frustration that even on Interstate 85, I witnessed flawed humanity. Things don’t operate the way they should. In all realms of reality, even more meaningful than slow traffic. Innocence fades. Children disobey. Parents separate. Friends betray. Loved ones pass away. Everything is broken.
I thought about how Jesus lived on the earth; God among subjected creation and decay. More than any other human, He had a sense of depravity and broken glory. Yet He spoke with kindness. He touched with gentleness. He taught with love. If anyone should have condemned and yelled and demanded to have things function according to design, it was Jesus.
But then, isn’t that why He came? To restore the marred image, mend the broken hearts, free the prisoners?
I realized how un-Jesus like I am. He focused not on the brokenness but on redemption. He didn’t point out all the wrongs, but pointed to the truth. He didn’t tear people down, but he led them forward, God-ward. Hope flowed through His words. Anger seems to spew through mine.
For much of my adult life I have focused on the negative side of reality, the pain, the heartache, the darkness. I thought I had a good idea about life on earth. And in some ways I do. The problem is that in Christ, there is more—hope, joy, peace, light, life, love.
I know now that I have been worldly-minded. As Jesus’ follower, I must look for redemption, pursue restoration, offer liberation. It is not enough to speak of broken creation. Love that mends has come. As His hands and feet, I now live to share that heartbeat with all those I meet. Even the carefree divers on I-85.
So I’m beginning to train myself to “look for redemption in everyone,” as Karin Berquist would say. I’m moving from anger and fear to hope and courage.
