Note:  While this essay has no scripture references, I’m sure by the end the reader will have thought of some that apply.  I did.
It was the week after Christmas, 2001.  We were gathered in Minnesota at the home of our daughter, Christine, and her husband, Robert.  Christine was expecting her first child, the first grandchild for us.  We were all pretty excited about being together.    Our daughter, Michelle, and our son, John, were also with us.   Family together for this brief amount of time, before we all went our separate ways again:  Michelle back to Oklahoma, John back to SUNY Cortland, Frank and I back to Clifton Park.  We had spent hours singing, telling stories, playing games, doing a mystery puzzle and taking pictures, not to mention eating lots of leftovers.
On our last morning together Robert suggested that we visit the Nascar game room at the Mall of America.  It sounded like fun, even though I had no idea what he was talking about.
Predictably, the mall was crowded.  We had to wait to buy tickets, which gave me time to read a little about what we’d be doing once inside the game room.  Somehow we were going to be racing cars. That much I had gathered from the posters.  Anxiety about the unknown was replaced by thoughts that I could stand by a computer and push buttons.  No problem.
Once our tickets were purchased, we were ushered into a waiting or holding room.  There we stood in a little circle while the attendant gave us instructions about what we’d be doing.  While my eye contact was excellent, my mind could not process what he was saying.  I figured, “I’ll just follow what everyone else is doing.  It’ll be just fine.”
Finally, a door opened.  Once people exited we were invited into the game room which I realized was composed of mock, brightly colored race cars facing a large screen.  While Michelle, John, Robert and Frank filed toward cars and climbed inside, I just stood there.
“Oh, okay,” I thought, “find my own car.”  This was accomplished with a little stress on my part.  I truly felt out of my element.  Me, a fifty-four year old school teacher, had never even played one simple computer game, and here I was about to experience my first Nascar race.  The room was darkening.  I quickly jumped into the front seat of an empty car, black with yellow stripes, buckled in and clutched the wheel with sweaty hands.
The screen began moving slowly. My foot pressured the peddle cautiously.   I felt the sensation of moving forward, so carefully steering, I stayed in my lane and tried to relax.  Other cars began speeding by me.  I persevered and kept to the course.
“Hmmm.  Not bad,” I thought.  “I think I’m getting the gist of this.”
I pushed a little harder on the peddle.  The car seemed to move just a bit faster.  Actually, the screen gave the illusion that we were moving faster.  Any way you look at it, I was racing and holding my own.
The cars on the screen were flying by, some screeching, some crashing.  Steering around pouncing cars became more of a challenge, but so far I kept a steady pace and my car kept moving forward…no crashes.
“Hey, I’m doing pretty good,” I said, and began to relax.
It was about that time that I heard a voice from somewhere behind me.  A speaker somewhere in the back of my seat.  A low and very male voice.
“Uh, you can get on the track any time now.”
“What?” I said, not sure that the voice was directed at me.
“The black car with the yellow stripe can get into the racing lane at any time.”
That speech was directed at me.  And then I knew!  I had been “racing” in the warm-up lane.  Of course I wasn’t crashing… I wasn’t even in the race yet!!!
With haste I pitched the wheel to the right and immediately struck another vehicle.  At least the sensation of it on the screen.  From then on it was hit or be hit.  Crash after crash, wheel spinning left, then right.
Straighten black car with yellow stripe! Back on the track.  Foot to the peddle.  Fast…faster!
It went on and on.  Unlike a real race where the crashes would have left drivers screaming “Mercy!”, these vehicles miraculously straightened and wheels screeched as they pitched forward.
Eventually, it was over.   The lights flickered on and we all got out of our race cars.  Our son, John, was laughing like crazy as he sauntered over to me.
“Mom, you did pretty good … once you got in the race!”  Laughs and slaps on the back all around.
“Okay, okay,”  I countered. “Give me a break.  At least I got in there.  Wow!  That was something!”
The teasing that followed was pretty funny and we all did have a good laugh about Mom’s racing strategies.  If one wanted to know how to score the least amount of points while driving in the Nascar game, just see me.  I’m a pro.
On a more serious side, it gave me cause to reflect that sometimes my discernment of a situation might not be quite accurate.  I’ve learned to look at issues from different angles and do a lot more listening.
Before I start racing ahead with my opinions about something, I need to first of all make sure that I’m in the race!  And then, be ready for the smashing and screeching wheels.  Life can come at you quickly!

Marty Coletta