I’m convinced that God has a warped sense of humor. Before anyone takes offense, I mean no harm and I can find no record of my hypothesis in the Bible. However, I say it because I think my sense of humor is pretty warped too. (We’re in his image, right?)
Here’s what I mean:
I was traveling a few weeks ago to Central Pennsylvania on a beautiful fall day. The air was crisp, but not frigid, the sky was blue, and the roads were clear as far as you could see. There were a few other cars on the four lane highway, but nothing extraordinary. I regularly deal with bumper-to-bumper traffic and a myriad of crazy drivers, so I was loving it right from the start.
Let me stop right there. When I say I deal with crazy drivers, I mean fast ones who are convinced that the rush hour commute is a mini version of NASCAR, where you’re not trying to get to work, if you’re not trading just a little paint with the guy in the lane next to you, and slow ones who are convinced that it’s their job to police the rest of the driving public by driving slow in the fast lane. And then there’s everyone else, more focused on their phones than what’s in front of them. In short, one huge mess.
So for me, a beautiful day and clears roads is absolute heaven on Earth. For once in my life, I could race up the road to visit with family and make great time. At least, that’s what I thought until reality stepped in.
Before I got ten minutes into my trip, I noticed two other cars in front of me, starting to pump their brakes and slow down. Uh-oh, must be an accident I thought to myself as I let up on the gas. No, they were slowing because of a Pennsylvania State Trooper discreetly parked along the side of the road, behind a tree.
Whoa, thanks guys. In my head, I imagined myself sticking my tongue out at the trooper when I passed. No annoying and costly tickets today please! I thought to myself, this is a blip on the radar, we’ll be back to clear roads and fast cars.
A few more thoughts:
I started to speed up again and just as I was really starting to make good time, I spotted another police car, and, then a few more miles up the road, another. “Noooooo, not today,” I shouted to myself.
“So it’s going to be this kind of day, beautiful clear roads and a line of police cars just waiting for me to do something stupid.”
What could I do? Grumble under my breath? Curse the troopers doing their jobs, the same job I want them to be doing? Let my crappy luck ruin my day? Of course not. I broke out into a huge laugh. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. And of course, I slowed my speed down considerably, lest I get a ticket.
In the end, I spotted seven troopers on the short 3-hour trip and later that evening when I returned home. I broke no land speed records, but that’s okay, I got to where I needed to go in one piece.
I could be reading too much into everything, but the warped, heavily sarcastic lesson I took away from my day was that God wanted me, in this instance anyway, to sit back and enjoy the ride.
So yes, I’m pretty sure God has a sense of humor, a screwed up one too, but that could be my even crazier sense of humor.