Photo and Commentary ©2024 by Maylan Schurch
Sabbath and Sunday, November 30 and December 1, 2024
As I drove along a street in Seattle’s Kenmore area this past July, I saw a blinking police car stopped in a lane ahead of me. I slowed down, then cautiously crept past. It was then that I saw what the police were protecting me from. Evidently, a gravel truck driver hadn’t secured the tailgate on his vehicle, and when he got a green light, his forward lunge had forced a bunch of gravel out the back.
A block later, I saw the same thing. Another red light had paused the truck, another green had lurched it forward, and another, smaller gravel batch had tumbled down.
As I think about this chain of spills, I wonder how the police handled it. Hearing about what happened, an experienced officer probably thought ahead to future intersections where the same thing might happen, and maybe took steps to get a buddy to pull the trucker over to avoid further rock-and-gravel piles.
But even more striking—and even more ludicrous if you think of it that way—is the mental image of the clueless driver, maybe whistling, maybe listening to the radio, completely oblivious to the havoc he was trailing behind him!
Having traveled for several decades along life’s metaphorical streets, I too have left a trail of such spills from time to time. Often I’ve not even realized their effect. But when I have, I’ve shrunk in shame.
That’s when the Bible texts at the following link bring great relief.