Day 259

Day 259: Early this morning I headed to my son and daughter-in-law’s to spend some quality time with my grandsons while their folks went to work and early church meetings.

Only one other car was ahead of me on the deserted street as we approached the intersection. The traffic light was green and the car in front of me continued through the intersection, but just as I was about to cross, the light turned yellow. It was one of those “Do I gun it, or stop?” split-second-decision-moments.

I stopped.

And as I stopped, a lone car went blasting through the intersection, right in front of me. I looked up at my light. It was still yellow. I looked up at the other light. Totally red. It took a moment for my brain to compute the data. They hadn’t even tried to stop. And then my heart started pounding. If I’d pressed my luck and sped through the light before it turned red, the other car would have broadsided me. And if that car had blown through the intersection two seconds sooner, they would have hit the car in front of me.

The car had been coming from the direction of the fire. Maybe it was someone who had been working the fire all night. Maybe they were so exhausted the red light data didn’t compute in their brain. Maybe when you’re fighting the red of fire all night long, a red light stops meaning STOP and begins meaning FORGE AHEAD.

When the light changed, I continued on my course, suddenly suspicious of any distant headlights. It was eerily quiet on the streets. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the fire on the mountain above my son and daughter-in-law’s home etched a glowing silhouette along the ridge line in the darkness.

Their home is a half mile from the fire evacuation line. A half mile into the safe zone. But my daughter-in-law’s parents’ home is literally abutting the line. It runs right behind their home. How does a family make decisions when they’re on the line? Sure, right now they’re on the side of safety, but what split-second shift could put them on the danger side of the line?

I drew comparisons as I finished my drive. How much of our lives do we live pressed up against the line? Do we just barely toe the safety side of the line? Do we cross the line, even though we know danger lurks there? Do we become so numb to the line that it ceases to exist in our sight? Or do we take measures to move ourselves deeper into the safety zone?

If we find our toes routinely crossing the danger line, it is time for an evacuation plan—a plan to move us deeper into the safety zone. Because those wildfires and crazy drivers of life can blow through the intersection in One. Split. Second.

#momscompanytowels

#splitseconddecisions

#lifemoveslikewildfire