In a Hurry to Wait
Flash Flash.
My left blinker churned on and off as I waited for the turn signal. Two lights cast shadows of my head against the ceiling of my car. I squinted to avoid the glare emanating from my rearview mirror.
The light turned green and I turned onto a two-laned country road. The lights behind me crept closer as I drove along. And in an instant, the lights jerked over the double-yellow line and soon screamed past me. As I saw the taillights, I realized a Camaro had left me in its dust.
Screeech. A sharp turn in the road led to an abrupt change in driving styles for the Camaro. I quickly caught up to it and tailed it as we crossed some railroad tracks.
Varooom. I watched as the red taillamps got smaller and smaller. They disappeared altogether as the road twisted to and fro.
What’s that I see? But one Camaro sitting at a red light. How ironic?
Squeal. And there goes the Camaro again. Over the hill and through the woods, to the next red light it went. And so I drove, and so I caught up once again.
We waited at the light for a moment, only for the light to turn green again. And once again, the Camaro flew down the road, feigned by darkness as I fell behind.
What is that I see again? Is that the same Camaro? Waiting at another red light? Why yes, yes it is. It’s the same Camaro waiting to gun it again.
Five miles later I had completely kept pace with a car that could destroy mine on the track. And we both arrived at the same time.
The Camaro was in a hurry to wait. And so they worked hard, drove fast, and took long, frustrating breaks at stoplights. I was slow and steady, and although I too had to wait at lights, my waiting wasn’t as severe as theirs.
How often do we work so hard and fast that we end up just waiting to use what we’ve worked so hard for? Do we waste our energy hurriedly doing things that could have waited?
So I ask you, “Are you in such a hurry to wait?”