There’s a Stop Sign There

Today, I nearly drive right through an intersection because I forget the stop sign. It just doesn’t seem right for there to be a stop sign there anyway. It’s a long stretch of road with just a teeny-tiny parking lot to the left with a stop sign for oncoming traffic to let those cars out.

So I keep missing it and braking after the fact when I’m right in the middle of the intersection (or even after the intersection when I’m obviously too late).

I know, I know. There is a stop sign there, and it’s telling me to stop. Not slow down, not roll through, but actually stop. Even if there’s no car in sight. Even if it doesn’t make sense. A higher authority tells me to stop, and stop I must. (I actually have this conversation with myself as I drive.)

In large ways and small ways, I was to listen and obey. Even if it makes no sense. Even if I see no point. Even if I can’t comprehend any danger. Even if I have somewhere exciting to get to, fast.

When it’s time to stop, we stop.

Is God telling us to stop, and we’re not?


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