We’ve been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we’re not demoralized; we’re not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we’ve been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn’t left our side; we’ve been thrown down, but we haven’t broken. – 2 Corinthians 4:8-9 (The Message)
In a devotion in the Upper Room, a man wrote of receiving the news from his doctor: “Mike, you have prostate cancer.” He related how, understandably, he was shocked. As he talked with his family, his 22-year-old son counseled him. “Dad, look at it as a speed bump.”
There’s a lot of wisdom in that.
We drive merrily down life’s highway, thinking the car’s working right and the road is smooth, then suddenly WHAM: a speed bump rattles us.
Such bumps come in varying shapes and sizes:
“Mike, I want a divorce.” “Mike, I’m going to have to let you go.” “Mike, you really messed up this time.” “Mike, the doctor said I have Alzheimer’s.” “Mike…”
The one thing they all have in common is that they make us stop. When we stop, we have to dig deeper. See more broadly. Connect to others more authentically.
Above all, they make us ask the question, “What is most important to me?”
It’s so easy for me to get caught up in today’s problems. Sometimes I make them worse by imagining the worst-case scenario.
The reality is that obsessing on the size of the speed bump keeps me from remembering that it’s just a bump, not a wall. We slow down. We creep over it. We move on.
Because Jesus showed us that even a cross is a bump, not a wall.
Remembering what, and who, are most important reveals the resurrecting God traveling with us.
The bump will move behind us. Life and love will move us forward.