The mailman slammed the side door on his white truck causing me to jump at least three feet off the concrete. Since I was walking in front of his vehicle when the kaboom happened, I thought he cranked the engine to the vehicle, not realizing he wasn’t even inside the truck.
He laughed, sticking his head around the front, a jolly warm-your heart burst that sent me to his side. I slugged his arm. “I thought you were about to run over me.”
“Me? Run over you? Now I do have some folks on the route that could use a little tire spinning over their bodies, but not you.”
“That’s good to know. Hey you reminded me how my twin sister tumbled from our family station wagon from the back seat of our car. We were at the Piggly Wiggly parking lot in Hot Springs, Arkansas. My sister and I were six, and we were fighting, something we practiced daily. But Melody forgot to shut her car door, so when our mom drove off, my twin flew from the car.”
My mailman touched my shoulder. “Oh, my word! Did you push her?”
“No, but Mom stopped the car with a jerk, stopping the spin of the right rear tire on top of Melody’s leg. The panic, the screams, and the crying caused my mom to get confused, and she couldn’t figure out how NOT to drive over Melody’s other leg.”
Mr. Mail man stepped back, glancing at the tires on his truck. “You mean, the tire was on her leg? It must have been broken.”
“No, she’s tough. Nothing was broken. But she did get a cast. And it was right before Christmas and we were getting roller skates. She had to sit on the sofa, and roll her one good leg back and forth with the skate on that foot.”
“Why did she have a cast?”
“Maybe my mom told the doctor she’d skate. I don’t know. I was six. Anyway they protected her leg by letting it rest, I guess.”
“But, you did push her?”
“No!” Laughing, I tried to remember, unsure if I had anything to do with that accident. “Now do I look like the type of sister who would push her twin from the car?”
Jumping into his truck, he answered, “Well, do I look like the type of mailman who would run over anyone?”
I nodded. “Yes, you do.”
He started the engine, calling to me. “Then yes, you look like the twin who pushes.”
I yelled to the back of his truck. “Well, if her door had been shut, she wouldn’t have fallen from the car.”
I don’t believe I pushed my sister, but in life we do push for attention. We do push to hear our voices. We do push our opinions. We say we love the Lord, and then we struggle to let Him lead. We argue with God. We waver. And then, we often wonder why it is, that we tumble over our choices, our words, and our attitudes.
And then, it’s as if the Lord lands on top of us through His Holy Spirit, and we’re convicted by our “bad attitudes.” And we feel broken. We’re caught with our over inflated self esteem, our all-consuming selfishness, and our stubborn wills.
Yes, when we ride with Christ we can shut the door on our old ways. We can trust Him. And we can slam the door to the old, and ride into the new. But we will struggle.
Our days won’t fall into place perfectly at times, but if we’re serving the Lord with our love for Him, and if we’re giving Him glory; then, the ride becomes about Him, and not about us.
May we carry His message into the world, like “mail” to hearts and hope to lives. But I offer you this reminder: if you see me coming in my car, you may want to give me plenty of room.
And you may never want to sit in the back seat of a car with me, unless you’re sure the door is locked and you have your seat belt on.