Friday, March 20, 2009

A Change of Heart


Alright, so a 2002 Subaru WRX pimped to the max with high performance everything and far from stock, is not the kind of vehicle I should be cruisin’ around in on a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon in the small town of Grants Pass in the beautiful state of Oregon. Here's why....

Today coming home for church, mind you after I sat through a wonderful hour long sermon, that was truly fabulous, I found an open lane across from my hubby that beckoned my name. I briefly looked at him, and he at me. I scanned the rear horizon for any noticeable blue and red lights and then I couldn’t help myself. I really couldn’t. It was like an adrenalin rush before the adrenalin rush, you know what I mean? Maybe not, but you should have. It was awesome!

Just coming off a red light I gunned it in first, swiftly shifted to second and enjoyed being plastered to the back of my seat, noticing everything around me quickly whizzing by just wasn’t enough. Yes, into third I shifted and was quickly off again, my husband, well, he was but a speck in my rear view mirror, I am sure shaking his head at me, envisioning our insurance escalating and worrisome over how he will spend the next year getting me to my classes at the local college and him to work on time during the week, not if, but when I am caught.

I down shifted while turning into the right lane getting onto Redwood Highway and lo and behold a trooper coasts by with his stern grin and hot looking Charger with a complete black rack in the front of his bumper perfectly suited as a radical ramming device. Of course I innocently cruise along going no more than the posted speed limit and become restless by the second. As myself and a little black Honda, late model 90’s with a kid in the driver’s seat that looked not a day over 19 pulled up next to me, we glanced at the trooper, back at eachother and as he waved within my eyesight range I knew we were immediately on the same page; or were we?

I’ve been a Christian for over twenty-five years. My husband and I met cruising in our early model Mustang’s, and drag racing in Phoenix, Arizona. This combination together has led me to a happy marriage and speed still running through my blood. Just look at the vehicles my two son’s drive. My oldest, a Honda he’d gutted to race at the drag strip, and a very quick 2002 Subaru WRX, in which I joyfully drive throughout the streets of Grants Pass. My youngest son, an early 90’s model Honda CRX with a turbo that has seen its share of 22 pounds of boost, and a late 90’s model Chevy Camaro (he bought off my hubby and I a couple of years ago) with an LT1 Corvette motor that literally screams. It is awesome. Anyway, racing is still alive and well in my household and yet when the young man in his Honda, and I in the WRX, glanced at one another while stopped at a light while the state trooper idled just a few feet in front of us, something hit me. Would we have raced had the trooper been trooping somewhere else? All notions say yes, and I realized what a bad mentor I would have been, adrenalin and all. Had we gone for it, I would have been encouraging this young man to drag on the street, quite the opposite of what I tell young people to do in this town. What do I say, “Save it for the track.” Yet this was farthest from my mind in the middle of those glances which spoke volumes.

I came home thinking about blaming the little race car I was driving, my resisting to grow up, racing in my blood, anything that made sense. What I did not immediately blame, was the hidden rebellion in my heart. As hard as it was to admit, this was it. I couldn’t believe it. I, who spend a great deal of time mentoring students in this crime laden town with a justice system that needs quite a bit of tweaking when it comes to traffic crimes, was all fired up and ready to disobey at my heart’s will by an adrenalin rush like no other (yes, even better than drugs). What am I doing? What am I thinking? Who do I want to become to these young people? These questions began flooding my mind and I started to take inventory. This is it. I am enrolled in criminal justice classes and must maintain an attitude of obedience, not only to God but to authority. I must initiate this attitude because I know the power of the mind. As a mentor entering into the world of justice, I am not only obligated to follow the rules of the land that do not contradict the will of God, but I must walk the walk and not only talk the talk.

Wow, what a valuable lesson to learn on a bright Sunday afternoon cruising around in a sporty little WRX through a town in desperate need of mentors who can change lives, save lives and make a difference. This is the kind of mentor I want to be. Lord willing, I will make a difference in the lives of these young people, Lord knows I struggle with some of their same struggles, (grin).