Early AM (Random) Thought: We love what we know. There is safety and comfort with that which is familiar. But, if I know Him, then I know me, and if I know me, I know you. And only then love is no longer a response that must be earned, but freely given to all.
Ugh. This might have been a little too deep for me. It was 4 AM, again on the delivery route, but I was following google maps because we got a new brown bag luncher. It was dark, I was listening to the GPS, and boom. Up, down, the sound of my bumper hitting the pavement made my back curl up and shoulders tighten.
“What kind of pothole was that?” I thought to myself.
It was like a dang crater. I know the Kia Soul took a scraping, but didn’t care to look at it. Like most of our hurts, sometimes it’s easier to pretend they don’t exist.
I kept driving, finished up the route and was home by 6:00 AM. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat on our porch sipping it, watching the trees, and thinking about that crazy big pothole. Michael joined me and I told him about the dip I took in cement.
“How bad is it?” he asked.
“I have no clue.” I responded. “I didn’t even look.”
In case you’re wondering why I am out at 4am on a delivery route, I deliver lunches in the wee hours of the morning for our family business The Domesticated Dad, and I love it. I listen to my talk radio station, I listen to music, I watch the sun come up, count stars, drink my chocolate macadamia nut coffee from Quik Check.
Yes, sometimes I also come face-to-face with deer, get drenched by a sprinkler system, get caught in the rain, sleet, snow even, but still I love it. And on this particular morning of the pothole incident, I got to thinking about potholes, how they cause damage and kind of shake you up a bit, if you don’t know you’re about to run into one, if you’re not familiar with the area. But the next day, I thought, I would be fine.
So morning came, and I was back on my route. A great song was on and I (totally in the moment), singing loud, then CRACK UP BOOM DOWN BOOM SCRAPE – crazy big pothole that I should have remembered shook me up again.
What’s the phrase, ‘Hurt me once, shame on you. Hurt me twice, shame on me.’? This was a little bit of a ‘shame on me’ moment. I thought all dang day about that pothole yesterday, how could I have forgotten it so quickly???
Well, at least the song I was listening to was good. More scrapes on the car I was sure.
The third day of the new route, I was ready. I was not going to let anything make me forget that that pothole was there. And so when I turned on the road with the big dipper, I slowed down and gently swerved around it, and was completely ready, prepared, and in charge. No scrapes today!! Woohoo!!
On most days during the course of this route in particular with the pothole, I had no issues. I will admit, every now and then if I was deep in thought or song or listening to a good message on the radio, I may have forgotten about said pothole, but for the most part, knowing it was there allowed me to go over it gently enough, or swerve around it slowly enough to not do any more damage.
And man, did that pothole make me think about life, a lot.
I mean, isn’t our gut a good predictor of potholes to come? And yet, we don’t always listen to it. Aren’t experiences a good predictor of a pothole we once ran into and maybe now try to avoid? But we don’t always go around it. And sometimes, it’s alright. Sometimes the scrape was worth it because the lesson helped us and we heal from it and we are better for it. Sometimes we have to hit the same pothole over and over again to finally learn the lesson, and then we can move on. I swear, once I became really really good at not hitting that crazy big pothole, my delivery route changed. God has a good sense of humor, I’ll tell ya.
