The bank called. I was overdrawn. The property tax check which I thought was still safely tucked on my desk had accidently been mailed out. With expressed appreciation and embarrassment, I reassured the bank manager of my immediate departure with the necessary funds.
A bounced check, especially one written to the government, is anyone's nightmare so that you can imagine my fretfulness and flurry of paperwork fuss upon hanging up the phone. Moments later, with my deposit in hand, I scurried out to my car.
With purpose in my brow, I backed out of my parking spot, drove forward to the stop sign, stopped (of course), and made a right hand turn onto Lemon Street which is a four lane street divided by a curbed landscaped center island. A car was directly to my right, the center island to my left, and scattered cars to the rear. Up ahead, I noticed a bicyclist meandering on his bike about three to four feet from the right side curb. Even though I was safely in the left lane, I could see that the car traveling next to mine would soon be out of space to safely pass the bicyclist given his car width. Not knowing if the car to my right was going to speed up and cut in front of me or slow down and merge in behind me, I lifted my foot off of the gas pedal poised for braking action.
This dramatic driving scenario is not unique to anyone who has been behind the wheel of a car. We have all found ourselves in similar situations where a bicyclist is taking more road space than he or she should thereby becoming an obstacle to other travelers around him. Naturally, we react with caution and concern because given an ensuing battle between bicycle and car, the clear cut victor would be the vehicle. And yet, this same victor would go down in defeat because the automobile driver had the responsibility to protect the weaker vessel journeying down his same path.
Getting back to my story, the car to my right just stayed to my right. I internally questioned, "What is he going to do?" Then it happened. That scene we imagine in our mind's eye which gives us foresight and wisdom to be cautious around a bicyclist sharing the road. My inquiry was no longer focused on the propsed action of the driver to my right. Rather, my speculation spun to the behavior of the bicyclist just ahead. My brakes and I screeched in unison, "WHAT IS HE DOING?!"
This young man, without looking back or consulting any rearview mirrors, suddenly jerked his handlebars to the left and halted his bicycle in a position perpendicular to the roadway. His countenance conveyed no concern of "oops." Nor did he display a "deer in the headlights" dread as two cars drove directly at him. No, he just stood straddling his bicycle with his front tire now blocking my lane and his back tire now blocking the lane of the car to my right.
His reaction to becoming an obstacle in our path was obviously not the same as our reaction to him becoming an obstacle in our path. Attesting to that fact was the accumulation of everything which was not bolted down in my car now thrust to the floor smashed against whatever stopped it.
With less than six feet of space between cars and bike, the universe had suddenly come to a screeching halt except for all of the hearts now racing at more than one hundred beats per minute. And the world remained at a standstill because this guy just continued to stand there straddling his bicycle and stare at all of our cars stopped in the roadway as if we had gathered together for some form of Evel Knievel performance. Then, as if he had actually performed the stunt successfully, he slowly placed his foot back on the pedal, turned his bicycle toward the oncoming traffic, and began to slowly ride down the center line in between all of the cars (now also stopped behind us) while waving at each driver as if he was Mr. America in a holiday parade and the cars were the onlookers sitting along the curb.
The driver to my right and I stalled for just a moment longer as we both watched in our rearview mirrors the final scene of our harrowing ordeal. There he was, our bicyclist, bringing traffic to a halt as he rode down the center of the street waving to everyone he passed.
My duty to avoid danger as a defensive driver in this roadway drama was done. As I breathed a prayer of thanksgiving for the Lord's protection, I noticed something unusual. I was calm. Usually when some knucklehead (sorry) does something stupid which causes a stressful situation, I respond with annoyance and sarcastic superlative speech. Why was I so cool and composed?
As I sat stopped at the next signal, I felt God's nudging for me to figuratively stop and wait for His next signal. I sighed, "What is it that you want me to learn from this, Lord?" I searched my mind for the lesson He was trying to convey. Slowly it dawned on me. The incident just encountered was a life lesson from Romans 14. Was it any coincidence that I had just read this passage less than five hours before in my morning Bible reading? I don't think so. The chapter was subtitled "The Danger of Criticism" which had caught my attention because, unfortunately, I can be critical at times. Then I remembered the familiar words which I had read:
"Accept Christians who are weak in faith."
We all travel down the road of life. Sometimes we travel on a bicycle and sometimes we travel in a car. The mode of transportation is not important because both methods are perfectly legitimate means to journey from Point A to Point B. What is important is how the driver of the bicycle and automobile respond when they encounter each other on the road.
Obviously, the automobile is the stronger vessel as compared to the bicycle so that both drivers must control their vehicles accordingly. The automobile driver must submit his vehicle to the weakness of the bicycle and the bicyclist must submit his vehicle to the strength of the automobile. Notice that the drivers themselves are comparatively similar. The only difference between the two is the strength or weakness of their vehicle.
Our verse is a directive to the Christian with stronger faith, and since we typically think of ourselves as the "strong one," we naturally apply it to ourselves in that context. However, sometimes we are the Christian who is weak in faith. God had put this young man directly in my path to remind me that sometimes I will be the weaker vessel causing someone else to deal with my imperfections or wavering faith.
As I pulled into the bank's parking lot, I pondered this spiritual application gained from the bicyclist. Just as I had to stop to protect him, my bank manager had to stop the progress of her day to protect me. I humbly picked up the bank deposit from my clutter of possessions now scattered on the car floorboard and entered the bank. Look who was the knucklehead now!
"Yes, each of us will have to give
a personal account to God.
So don't condemn each other anymore.
Decide instead to live in such a way that you will not put
an obstacle in another Christian's path."
Romans 14:12
Written by Devra Robledo
©Copyright 2012 Used by Permission
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