Runaway Ramps

Yesterday I was driving down a steep mountain slope when I smelled burning rubber.  Beside me were two semi-trucks riding their brakes. They were in the far right lane with a 35 speed limit posted for trucks. The incline fought against their efforts. “Runaway Truck Ramp” signs ushered truck drivers off to a dirt exit if they could not make the next curve. I had seen trucks take similar side roads until they hit a steep ramp that pushed them back to a stop.

There are times when our lives speed out of control until we find ourselves on a side road headed for a runaway ramp. I thought of three seasons in my life that sucked me off the proverbial highway.

In my twenties, I was on hospital bedrest for the final weeks of my second pregnancy. That ramp taught me the value of boredom and that my home and workplace could function without me. Years later my whole world went on hold while I returned home to help care for my mom in her last few weeks of life on earth. On that ramp, I learned that we can live well and then die well. Last year my own cancer journey steered me into the runaway ramp just a few months ahead of my retirement date. I learned the scenic route is too pretty to filter behind a blur.  Colors are more vivid at a slower pace.

Sometimes our creator slows us down because He can see the curve ahead.  I’m thankful for the runaway ramps provided whenever I live too fast. Blessed are the times I stop and breathe in Psalm 46:10 to be still and know that He is God.  After each curve of life, there is usually a stretch of new normal. Be still and prepare yourself for both.