(Warning: If you are uber sensitive, you may not find me funny today.)
You know, here I was minding my own business, when something happened. A guy—in a black Jeep—with two kids in his car—riding on my tail—gave me The Finger! Yes, I am sure you know which finger I speak of.
Now, let me put this out there in the beginning. If you are looking for my blog to be a comforting blog with chirping birds and melodious tunes of hymns of old, where your very soul is lifted up to the heavens and you are challenged to your core to be as golden as the streets of heaven. Well, if that’s what you’re looking for, you are definitely at the wrong site.
Yes, I am a pastor’s wife. And, yes, I fully believe in Jesus—he’s awesome. Totally my Savior. So thankful for grace. So appreciative of mercy. Believe wholly in miracles—my son is one! He almost died, you know. And, if you didn’t know, now you do. Yep…God rocks in my heart! God rocks in our home! God is the very essence of WHY we exist to live and serve. Big God fan here! I heart God.
But—I am not your docile Christian Woman Blogger that will encourage your sweet and gentle spirit. I, probably much to my husband’s dismay, will encourage your sense of Roar! And entice you to be loud and boisterous and adventurous. And I’ll encourage messy. Messy is impressive.
I do hope, however, that I entice you into having your own opinions and looking at the dirty glass and seeing that, despite the grime, your glass is still half full.
I do hope, however, that I inspire you to be all that you can be…or just be in pajamas. Pajamas are in—sometimes at least.
I do hope, however, that I send you into this very day with a sense of great purpose-be it small or large-with an impressive roar!
Anyhow—back to my jeep encounter. Let me share what I learned through this moment from this aggressor of a man.
First of all, I would like you to know that the incident took place when I was slowing down, with my right blinker on, ready to turn into my driveway. And that’s when I saw him…The Jeep Man barreling down the street.
He made me do something crazy…I had to swerve off the road. And then I did it, I laid on my horn.
Unfortunately, the horn of my car sounded like a little kitty cat. “Meow. Meow. Meow.”
And so I did it again, just in case he didn’t hear my lame horn, “Meow. Meow. Meow.”
So much for the horn of this car, eh?
But then the barreling, raging Jeep Man did something—he slammed his already torpedo-ish Jeep also over on the side of the road and blared his horn back at me, “BIG JEEP BEEP! BIG JEEP BEEP! BIG JEEP BEEP!”
My little meow-er horn had nothing on his “HONK! HONK!”
But he didn’t just stop there—he then extended his burly arm straight up into the air and gave me the sign that I was “NUMERO UNO!”
That’s right, man. He signaled to me how GREAT I really am.
“I am Number One! I am Number One!”
And I did the only thing I could think to do back.
I pulled out my pointer finger and aggressively started tapping the center of my forehead with it!
That’s right, baby—You have a hand signal—Well, I do too!
Pointer finger tap. Pointer finger tap. Pointer finger tap (Center of the forehead is key—in Poland they do this for “Think. Think.” It’s our way of driving over there, man).
And that’s when his face changed. It went from growl to complete confusion. Perhaps he thought he was messing with a mental patient. Better get out of there. Pronto!
And as fast as he barreled on the behind of my tiny car—he barreled away…leaving me a souvenir. RAGE!
But, don’t worry, it only lasted a mere blissful moment.
And here’s where I learned my lesson from the Jeep Man…
I have already let bitterness have too big of a foothold in my life over the past 16 years (I’ll spill those beans at a later date). So, I did what I have come to find out is way more AWESOME than holding onto bitterness…I let it go!
It felt great!
And letting go of my rage from the Jeep Man.
It felt great!
Although…To be honest, folks, because that’s what I am all about—before I “Let Go” this picture of my daughter did flash through my mind…
Along with the slogan, “Oh, yeah. Take that, Jeep Man!”
But it was a funny thought, eh?!
*Remember—my daughter has grown up in Poland and is not accustomed to the meaning of the middle finger. Therefore the above picture is simply a 6-year-old being…Well, gross. Silly. Six. What can I say? You already know I’m not the greatest parent ever. I guess this goes to prove it ;)*
Hope you, the GREATEST PARENTS EVER, remember to just let it go! Release rage, find humor in the situation, and have a GREAT day.
And may the Jeep Man not cross your path.