Behind the Guardrail
By Pastor Jack Hayford
One minute last Monday my car was in the flow of five o'clock traffic.
The next, it was bouncing clumsily toward the side of the freeway,
my tire blown and pulpy, the rim grinding on the pavement.
My mind was racing in a dozen directions: I
have to get to the churchthe dinner begins in just over an hour
... Have to get the details finalized ... The traffic
is so fast ... I've never stopped on the freeway ...
Scary ... How do those who work here get used to it?...
The wind is blowing so hard ... Gusts from passing trucks
on top of it ... Roadside uneven here ... Do I dare
jack the car up?... Will it tip over?... Nearly a
mile to off-ramp ... Should I risk wrecking something and
drive it ... Better walk to the call box ... How do
they work, way? ... Who gets called?... wild ...
Can't believe it ... A new tire, too!
The whirl of thoughts constituted less than a
minute. I got out of the car. My
decision: Walk to the call box. I did.
Nothing.
Couldn't get through between cutoffs and busy
signals. I decided to take my chances and walk to a telephone where
I could call Anna. This in itself became an epic. (Can you imagine
an intersection with three gas stations and one restaurant and not
one public telephone within a half mile!) Then ... a man in front
of his house. Would he let a stranger use his phone? He would.
I made contact. One of our guys was on his way
to help. Back at my car, I waited as the carousel of thoughts began
all over again. At rush hour, how long everything takes ...
The dinner time is getting too, too close ... Can I be ready?...
Don't want this first one to be sloppy ... What if things
fall completely apart? What if ... Hey, WAIT! Stop worrying,
Hayford! Pray!
And I began to do that.
Stepping behind the guardrail about twenty yards
ahead of my car, I began to walk beside the foliage, consulting
the Lord for His solution to the time pressure, the needed readiness
of things for our church family dinnertime, and my dilemma.
Soon, before anyone else arrived, He did. Peace
and confidence began to well up. And then I noticed something.
Junk. Rubbish. Bottles. Trash.
That pretty segment of the freeway I travel daily,
with greenery and flowered branches, was thickly packed with broken
glass, twisted metal, and dried garbage.
Junk.
It didn't smell, nor was it dangerous. It was
just unsightly, but not really noticed until you're stuck beside
it going nowhere and in a hurry. And I thought ...
I thought, Here I am, helpless, waiting between
a roar of traffic on one side and a thicket of trash on the other.
But feet away, a fence divides me from a world of people. People,
people everywhere and not a soul to…but wait.
There was One who cared.
And while talking with Him, I received direction, confidence,
peace and …
It struck me. How many of us get stuck just like
that.
Not on a freeway nor with a flat tire. But stuck
in a life-situation where everything is flying by on one hand and
a tangle of trash sits on the other People nearby are too hurried
or seemingly indifferent. You know help is on the way, but you're
pressed with demands to get going. ... Duty snaps its command, and
your peace is evaporated. And then you think to step behind His
guardrail … to pray.
Maybe this true-story-parable is an encouragement.
I hope so, because in my situation, betwixt racing cars and rubbish,
I prayed. Help arrived. We fixed the tire. And I got there on time
(though windblown).
The rush and the trash didn't win after all.
There's a message there somewhere. |
Jack
Hayford Ministries
14800 Sherman Way, Van Nuys, CA 91405-2233