For those of you hopeful of finding a challenging exposition on the Old Testament; I'm sorry to dissappoint you.
Monday through Saturday, I've made it a habit to go to the gym and lift weights, which incidentally is one of the most futile things a person can do (in the sense that all that got done was you lost a little heat). Well to go to the gym, in Pullman, you have drive through the WSU Campus. It just so happens that the people that timed all the stop lights on the WSU Campus were so secure in their jobs that they didn't bother making sure that the main route was favored. This is to say that when you go through one green light, the light a half of a block ahead is just turning red. So, you're guarranteed to stop at every light.
On this particular day I'd had enough. So upon arriving at the second red light, I glanced quickly at the cross street, determined that there was in fact , no one coming (I suspected this) then proceded to drive through the red light. At this point, I surveyed once again to make sure that there were no cars, because we all know that cars can materialize out of thin air at any moment. Upon doing this second survey, I noticed that there was a friendly, helpful, kind and understanding WSU Police car watching me with no small amount of interest.
He made his move. He turned his lights on and pursued me with vigor, to which, I responded by stopping. So, I'm sitting in the pickup rehearsing what to tell the officer for an excuse. I had no idea what to say.
Before the officer arrived at the window, I took the proper position. If you're not familiar with this, it is putting your hands on the steering wheel and turning on the interior light. I was told that cops appreciate it when peope do this as they see more quickly that the situation isn't a dangerous one. So, the officer arrived at the window and asked why I had run the red light. I pondered for a second, at which point he interjected, "were you just impatient?". Before he let me answer this question, he asked me where I was headed. So I told him I was headed to the gym, and that, yes I was just impatient.
When the whole thing was over, the officer asked me if I thought it was possible to stay stopped at all subsequent red lights for the rest of the day if he let me off with a verbal warning. I thought I could, so I answered in the affirmative. So, the cop was cool about it, but it got me thinking about the unbending rules pertaining to stop lights.
Now I know there are certain people out there who need to stop and stay stopped at every light. But, there are those that will really look and make sure that they don't cause an accident. Why should I have to stop and wait for poorly timed lights at 6:00am in the morning?
I was all excited, I was heading out of town on my way to the Tri-cities. For those of you with a working knowledge of Washington State, you realize that there is already something wrong here. Being excited about going to the Tri-cities is like being excited to go to Lewiston when you're from Moscow. They are very nearly equal in their resemblance to a geographical arm pit. So, here I was excited to be getting out of town, enjoying the wind in my face, well I didn't really have wind in my face, it was 10 degrees with the wind chill, nonetheless, I was glad (not the NJ Glad, notice no capital letter) to be going somewhere besides Pullman for the day.
I recently installed a very nice stereo system in my pickup and I was testing the limits of the base and speakers...I was having a good time. I just crested a hill coming out of Colfax (a town that is populated by law enforcement people that have nothing better to do than to carry large microscopes in the hopes of finding a crack in one of your tail lights that warrants a citation) when I felt a little pause in the power of my pickup. Thinking nothing of it, I continued on, with the air of one who is not bound by the silly little realities of life (at least on this day). A few miles down the road my perspective changed, as did my deameanor and mood (I can never remember if mood=demeanor). I heard a gastly clunk, followed by a clank, and topped off with a bluwump. The pickup suddenly became lifeless, almost listless. So doing as any red-blooded American man would do; I stopped in the middle of the road to make sure my inconvenience was shared. No really, I pulled safely off in a wide spot of the road and got out of the vehicle and, you guessed it, I opened the hood. I opened the hood even though I'm only vaguely familiar with how a diesel engine works. I confidently and knowlingly stared at all the parts of the engine and even nodded to myself, as if to say, "at least peope passing by will think I know what I'm looking at." After opening the hood, looking at the engine, and discovering that I was no more informed as to the cause of my truck stopping than before opening the hood...I shut the hood and went back to the truck to try and start it. It wouldn't even turn over. After towing it back to town and having someone who, here's a thought, "actually knows something about engines," look at it. We determined that in fact, my truck is in need of a new engine. Two days of frustration and 20% of my yearly salary later, an engine is on its way from New York.
I think what was brought home to me is how serious God is about the fact we only make plans, what comes to pass is his. Oddly enough this whole episode really hasn't bothered me. It's given me an opportunity to see how eager some of my friends and family are to help me. That's a very cool feeling, and something that I'm so grateful to our Lord for.
Do you ever wonder where your money goes? I think about this often; I will get a seemingly large sum of money every couple of weeks from working, and the next thing I know I'm digging in the ashtray for coffee money. It is troubling that it would probably still be this way if my salary were doubled.