You might be a speed bump!


I work in a factory and have been very vocal about my faith.  I argue and witness and pray.

It felt like a slap the other day when one of them said, “you know for someone who knows the way, you sure act like a speed bump.”

I had been joking around, laughing, having fun, picking back and forth.  I, for the life of me, don’t know what I said.  All I know is, I heard that response and my world stopped.

I know I’m not amazing.  I know I’m as human, as flawed, as broken as any other person on the planet.  But, I pray and hope that my life, my words, my actions would point them to Jesus.  I also know I will fail, sometimes badly.

So, what do I do now?  What do we do when we’re faced with the fact that we have hindered people from seeing Jesus?

God, I come to you, admitting freely that I am not what I should be.  Holy Spirit, I say, with tears, that I have gotten in the way of you and expressed things other than your love and desire for every human being.  I have let anger and bitterness build walls around me and kept my heart closed to you and your voice.

Fill me again, live through me, smooth me out so that others can see you clearly.  Let me speak only what draws them to your presence.

The Tree

I was rushing down the sidewalk last night, my head down, eyes practically closed because of the cold and bitter wind.  I had no idea that the thick branches of a tree were so close to said sidewalk and did not foresee the headache that those branches would cause.

My loving children laughed as I related the story, laughed at my bleeding, swollen forehead, laughed at my dazed and pained expression.  To them, it was one more in a slew of goofy, silly mishaps that their father had created.  And I laughed with them.  How do I get myself into these messes from time to time?

I’m not looking up.

I used to run with my eyes down, focused on my breathing, intent to struggle with each pain, with the weariness of movement.  I got slower and more discouraged.  Then one day I started to run with my head up, eyes on the horizon, on the surroundings, looking at those around me and the suffering I saw them going through.  My breathing slowed, pain evaporated, speeds increased.  It is so much easier, more enjoyable to run with your head up.

The tree reminded me.  The laughter pointed me once again to heaven, to my Savior.

My head still hurts though…