Speeding Kills

We’re going to skip the awkward “sorry I haven’t written in a while” paragraph and jump right in – maybe you’ll understand why at about paragraph 5.

This past weekend I finally took the time to drive home to Nashville and rest.  After an early morning crew practice and doctor’s appointment, I was so ready to be home that I got straight on the interstate, turned up some music, and sped home in the far left lane.  I couldn’t have been going more the 7 over the posted speed limit. 

About an hour into the drive I noticed a car that had just broken down.  Smoke was coming out from the hood and flashers were on.  Immediately, I started looking to see if the car owner was nearby.  I’ve broken down on the side of the interstate enough times that I don’t feel too awkward offering help to fellow crappy car owners (also, because I’m a twenty-one year old girl with a teddy bear seat-belt buckled in to my passenger seat, I couldn’t look too intimidating).  This particular car owner, a woman who must have been about 10 years older than me, had just started walking toward the next exit, which was three miles up, when I saw her.  I wanted to pull over and help.  I started to slow down and put my blinker on but it was all useless.  I was three lanes over, driving just under 80 mph.  There was no way I was going to get to the right shoulder in time to be of any help.

I kept driving.

For the next 10 miles I debated getting off at the next exit and turning around to find her and try to help again.  I passed the first exit, and kicked myself for being so selfish.  There was no rush to get home – all I was doing was resting.  Eventually I had been so indecisive and missed enough exits that the car owner had to have made it to a gas station and called for help by then.  So again, I kept driving.

I realized in the next two hours of driving that speeding, in fact, is the thing that keeps me furthest away from being the best Christian I could be.  Getting from Point A to Point B as quickly as possible has kept me from loving and serving strangers and friends like I used to.  Not just on the road, but in life.

This year, I’m a senior in the business school, with a minor in both the music and religion department, with an extra online course at a seminary in Richmond, working about 12 hours a week at a church, and spending about 12 hours a week working out with my rowing team and on my own.  I go from 5am practices to class, work, the library, coffee shops, and (on a good day) to bed.  I started to focus on my resume, because organizations are starting to look at hiring me when I graduate, and stopped focusing on my personal life, and stopped focusing on finding ways to serve those that I love. 

I’m merely getting by.

And I’m not the only person who feels this way.  The few conversations that I get to have with friends are filled with “I slept 2 hours last night” and “I’m too busy with my 2 internships and part time job to study” and “I’d love to get lunch, but we’ll have to schedule three weeks in advance.”  College students everywhere (or maybe just everywhere in liberal arts schools) are struggling to build fruitful relationships because they’re stuck three lanes over, blinker on, going 80 miles an hour.

This isn’t the life that we’re called to.  We’re called to be Sunday drivers, holding up traffic, and pulling over to catch up with passers by.  We’re called to not only be friends to strangers, but also remember to be friends to our friends.  Because right now I can list off a hundred classmates and acquaintances, but I only spend real relational time with about 2 people a month. 

We can’t do this unless we slow down.  And we have to slow down.

So my challenge to myself (and to my classmates, acquaintances, and friends) is to slow down.  Don’t wait until we’ve run out of gas to putter to a halt on the side of the road.  Don’t stress about our calendars when we put relationships, sleep, and health first.

This is our exit.