How Getting Busted in Grace in Disguise

Sadly, I am a consummate excuse-maker.

For example, if I’m playing tennis and miss a shot, it is because the sun got in my eyes. If driving and I slam on my brakes, causing my passengers to lunge forward uncomfortably, it is because the car in front of me stopped irresponsibly quickly. I was just responding to their faulty driving technique. If I respond to my wife with a harsh word, it is because she “pressed one of my buttons.”

Isn’t it amazing how easy it is to cast blame on other people, passing judgment on their faults, flaws, and failures, while minimizing our own?

For almost thirty years, I drove without receiving even one moving violation by law enforcement. I took pride in that, feeling superior as I drove by another motorist on the side of the road who had been pulled over for speeding.

“I’m not a speeder” was a self-righteous boast I maintained for decades.

Until I got busted.

Driving home from a pastoral hospital visit in Gainesville, GA, I passed a patrol car in the median and glanced at the speedometer. Clinching my teeth, I looked in my rearview mirror to see the blue lights appear as beacons of judgment in the darkness.