When You Know You're Getting Better

The truth is that all my adult life I have feared, hated being stopped by a policeman. The moment I see the lights, my heart leaps up into my throat, racing at an ungodly speed. My eyes whip around the dashboard, the seats, the seatbelts, anything out of place, what speed was I going, how did he get there without me seeing him, oh I HATE THIS!! The surge rising up from within is fiery shame, for having broken a rule. The humiliation of being caught by Authority burns hot in my heart. It trumpets that truth I have been trying to evade all my life - that I am a loser, a failure.

So, three weeks ago I was driving all day from Colorado Springs to Kansas City, and when I got to the outskirts of KC, barely 20 miles from my son and daughter in law's home, I saw the lights. Pulled onto the shoulder of I-70 just 1/8 of a mile from the tollbooth near Bonner Springs. The Kansas State Trooper, of whom I had seen 11 others of his compatriots that day on the highway (good Lord, really? 12 on one highway? Are there no bank robberies, no litterings, nothing else to do but roam the one east-west route endlessly?), ambled up to my window and informed me that I was weaving a bit in my lane and had no seat belt on when he pulled me. I kindly told him that actually I had worn it religiously all day, but was reaching for change to pay my toll with and had just unfastened my seat belt, all of which was exactly the truth. He looked at me with a somewhat consternated gaze and took my insurance card and license back with him. But before he retreated to his vehicle, he asked, "So, what brings you to KC?" "Came to see my son and daughter in law and two grandsons and I'm taking them to a Royals game on Saturday!!" He gave me the same look and walked off. Like "Who are you kidding?"

When he finally came back, he asked me "This your truck?" "Yep, 1991 4WD regular cab 5 speed manual, 4 cylinder turn your own hubs exactly what I've always wanted. I just bought it in October" This was no doubt way more than he asked for, but I love that truck and he really didn't seem to be buying anything I was saying anyway. He asked what the funny looking bag was sitting on my seat, and I told him it was a Camelbak.. . incredulous look appears on his face as he says "Huh? What's that?" I said "You use them when you hike and climb, and ride bikes. . " Still more dumbfounded look. . . "Uh, you know, so you don't have to take a water bottle out. Really, that's just water in there." "Oh," he said. And so then, at last he says to me, "We're getting a lot of drug dealers from CO coming to KC in old pickup trucks. Just wanted to take a look at you. Stop weaving and keep your seat belt on." And he walked back to his car and let me go.

Do you know what the most wonderful part of all of that was?

I never experienced fear, shame, worry, panic, fast heartbeating. Nothing. I was full of peace from beginning to end. Calm, serene, even happy, whimsical, blessed. And that's when I knew I am getting better. That recovery from the wounds that plague my deep heart are healing. There is no way for me to make those lifelong symptoms go away. Only a work of God does this.

And the Royals won on Saturday, their fourth in a row. Two miracles in the same weekend. You gotta love this life.