Jim was always right. He made games a misery to play. When I was young I looked for ways to beat him, not that I never could, but because he always had to win. The funny thing was that when I did beat him in a game, often the rules mysteriously changed and he would declare himself the winner. When Jim started to drive he laid down the rules that all us younger kids had to abide by. He set the station on the radio. He operated the car heating system. And he dictated what windows could be rolled down or up. In a family of 6 siblings we went along with his rules hoping and praying for the day to arrive when we could be the driver along with all of its privileges.
That day did finally arrive when I found myself driving the camp station wagon from the Coho fish site in Kenai, Alaska. With Jim and everyone else loaded up on an early Sunday morning, the mood was upbeat and everyone anticipating a break from fishing. It seemed that all of us were talking at once and the banter back and forth was pleasant. The miles sped past as we headed up the highway and feeling the urge I reached over and turned on the radio. I found a station I liked and leaned back in the driver’s seat tapping my fingers in time to the music while listening to everyone’s conversations.
Jim was riding in the front right seat with Dixie sitting in the middle. The song was into its third verse when Jim reached over and changed the channel. I looked over at him and said as I reached over to the radio to change it back, “Jim, the driver gets to set the station.” Everyone else started jumping all over me while I tried to explain the ‘rules’ that I had to live by for years. Jim, emboldened by their disagreement with me, reached over to change the channel again.
A rage overtook me at that moment and everyone had no idea that it was coming from far more than an argument over car rules. For years I felt misunderstood and stepped on. The more I tried to explain my point of view, the more people would disregard them. In hind sight, these types of feelings would have been drawn out by my father and dealt with. He would have helped me understand how to control them, understand them and mostly pray about them. But, I had no father who was faithful to do so and the rage spilled out of me like Mt. Saint Helens.
Fine! If Jim wanted to have it his way, he could drive. Traveling at sixty miles an hour I slammed on the brakes and slid to a stop. I threw my car door open and jumped out of the car. In that instant I was thinking that I would walk rather than endure any more injustices from my brother. I hated him!
As my feet hit the road, a blur flashed past my nose.
I stood in the road watching our car door cart-wheeled down the highway. Two seconds before a large van had screamed past my face and ripped the door off as I was angrily getting out of the car. The Van’s mirror must have come within a hair of my head. I recognized later that it was a miracle that I was still alive. My rage gave way to numbness of sorts, but later I would realize that it was an onslaught of shock. Without turning around or skipping a beat I started walking. I walked past the Van which was backing up to where I had stopped the car. I walked past the door lying a few hundred feet further along the road, all caved in and distorted and the glass missing. I continued to walk as if to catch up to my thoughts in which were fading into the foggy distance. I felt nothing.
Over the years, this event has come back to haunt me many times, but God has used it to teach me many things about myself. Excuses were easy, but they were external - No dad to pass on his fatherly advice, his love and his discipline. No one was there to referee our conversations and to teach us how to communicate while listening effectively. But, eventually I learned what God wanted me to learn. That I am responsible for my own actions and that whatever or whoever influenced me to make poor choices, it will not affect the verdict in a good way. I have had to ‘break the chains’ of the negatives in my life and allow God to heal the wrongs I was born into. No excuses, only choices that are mine and mine alone.