I was heading over the church to hear confessions in my seven year old much loved Volvo.
There was a traffic jam and tailback, so I eased down and joined the queue.
Looking in my mirror I see a jalopy of an old Ford Bronco bearing down at some speed.
Too much speed.
Way too much speed.
So I pump my brakes to indicate that we’re stopped. I pump my brakes again and realize it’s too little too late.
The Bronco plows into the back of me–heavy steel front bumper with winch and all.
I am rammed into the hefty pick up in front of me and in an instant my car is wrecked.
I hit my head on the headrest and got a little bump. That’s all.
But once my anger subsided. (On Friday I just spent $1100 on that car) and I waited for the police and the tow truck and all the rest, I stopped.
It can all happen that fast, or faster and it could have been much worse.
And so we could go so quickly to the other side.
Was I prepared? I hope so. I trust in the mercy…and try to make a good confession.
Then I’m thinking further. I was driving a good, solid, safe car, but it was seven years old and I’ll only get about $6,000 for it.
Bummer. Then I’m wondering whether I liked that car too much. It was a smooth car and I liked it.
So I’ll have to drive something more modest because with six drivers at home and college coming up for three in the fall I can’t afford a better car.
I guess it won’t do me any harm to drive a clunker.
But I’m still mad at the old guy in the beat up Ford Bronco. He drove away with no more than a dented bumper and a winch that won’t work.
So I’ll shut up and count my blessings. I’m alive and unhurt and it’s only a car.
I wonder if I should get a 1983 Ford Bronco…