Six-Second Salt and Light

I would like to think that whoever sets the construction-zone speed limits has a degree in engineering and has done multiple studies to figure out the perfect speed. Sometimes it seems too slow for most drivers, whom I often irritate by driving the speed limit through construction areas. A speeding-through-construction ticket is worse than murder and mayhem on a trucker's CSA score, so I drive the limit, even if it seems silly.

The first car to pass me after the speed limit went back up in Iowa City, Iowa, was a late-model Buick. The silver-haired lady in the passenger seat was smiling at me, instead of scowling. “Nice smile,” I thought as they went by.

The young mother driving the next car made it a point to lean over and glare up at me. I felt irritated, but as I started to scowl back, I went back to a sermon I had heard on SiriusXM satellite radio a few months before. The speaker was giving a lesson on how Christians are supposed to be different. We are called to be the salt and light of the world. To simplify the message greatly, we are supposed to act better than is expected. Not many Christians do, and that is unfortunate. The world would be a better place if they did.

As an OTR Driver, my interactions with people are shorter than most Christians. I have thousands of interactions every day, but they only last about six seconds. That is the time it takes for a car or truck to overtake and pass me. The sermon pressed me into some serious consideration on how I was acting during those six seconds.  Was I was behaving in a way that made life better for the drivers around me, or worse? A driver that is being considerate, safe, and forgiving of other driver's mistakes or attitudes is the kind of driver I wanted be around. Perhaps I could improve my driving to meet those standards. I began to pray for people going by, waving and smiling, letting other drivers merge even if I thought they were rude for going around me. I even forgave a couple of drivers who were not paying attention on the entrance ramp.  I found that my day was more peaceful when I did not let every freeway war affect my attitude.

I smiled and made an apologetic wave at the young mother. “Sorry to hold you up, ma'am, company policy and all,” I tried to convey with a shrug. She seemed mollified, but the little girl in the pink dress behind her had her tiny fists on her hips. I have a theory that you can tell the last thing a driver said about you by how their small child looks at you. The girl had such a rueful look on her face that I burst out laughing.

Not all truck drivers are Christians. Perhaps someone who is a professional driver should act better than is expected also, though. They have more training, more time behind the wheel, and they have an incentive not endanger their license and career. Not all truckers act better than is expected, though. That is unfortunate. The road would be a better place if they did.