I caught my first glimpse of her as I slowly drove through a school zone yesterday. I glanced into my rearview mirror to see her riding my rear bumper, cell phone in her right hand and tigthly gripping the steering wheel with her left. I could see a small soccer ball swaying from her mirror. Before we had exited the school zone she had swerved into the right lane and accelerated ahead of me. She must have found a break in the traffice because the next thing I noticed was she cut across the center lane bound for the left one, which appeared to be clear. I caught up with her at the next stop light. She was one car ahead of me in the left lane. The names of her three daughters were displayed proudly in the back window of her Ford Explorer: Misty-Patriots, Amber-Hotshots, Tiffany-Hornets. She was a soccer mom and she was on a mission.
The pattern continued. It's about eight miles up Josey Lane from where I first met Misty, Amber and Tiffany's mom to where I turned right and headed for a hospital visit. I was her shadow almost the entire route. She would speed away from every green light. I could see glimpses of her darting in and out of lanes up ahead. Meanwhile, I was plodding along at the posted speed limit. At most lights I coasted up just in time to see her pull away. At one light, I don't know if it was me or the person in the left lane that she was frustrated with. I had timed it right and reached the intersection just as the light turned green. I coasted by her, as she was hung up behind a slow-moving grey Lexus. "Imagine that, a driver in the far left lane who actually drives the speed limit," I am sure she thought. I watched her swing in behind me, accelerated past and then cut across my lane to get back to the left. Sure enough, she was waiting for me as I coasted up to the next light.
I think I could even identify her when she isn't behind the wheel. She would be the mom in the bleachers at the soccer game complaining about the incompetent referees. She would be the mom in the parking lot tapping her shoe while the coach debriefed the team after the game. "Come on, let's get on with it. I have other places to be, you know." As a coach myself, she would expect her to be the mom who would call me hours after the game asking why her precious daughter, with so much natural talent, wasn't seeing more time on the field.
I guess what troubled me most was the "fish" symbol on the rear bumper of her SUV and the decal identifying the church she was affiliated with. I guess that church hasn't taught the part of the Bible on spiritual gifts, especially patience.
I know I am wrong for pre-judging the woman. Maybe she is a nice person and I was just catching her at a bad time. I guess the lesson here is the responsibility we all carry when we wear the sign of the cross, or in this case the fish. We identify ourselves as being members of God's Kingdom. We represent Christ in all we do. It's easy to get caught up in the pressures of this world and forget that. It can especially be that way for contemporary parents, many of whom are balancing full-time jobs and surviving this economy, in addition to their parenting responsibilities. Maybe we all need to just chill once in a while and think about who we are as Children of God.
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