Steve Irwin, He Was Not (or, Pray Without Ceasing)
I pulled over in the parking lot of an abandoned gas station and walked to the edge of the road to help the turtle, disappointed that I had to contend with oncoming traffic. I anxiously waited as a big dually truck (which I’m assuming was not driven by Steve Irwin) was coming up the road, too close for comfort. I hoped and prayed it would avoid the turtle, but alas, that stinkin’ truck ran right over it! Right in front of me!
I was livid. That poor turtle! I was obviously standing there waiting to save it. I certainly couldn’t now since its guts were oozing out the side of its crushed shell.
I used to be a hero.
Well, for turtles anyway.
I liked to think of myself that way but in reality, I’m not so sure anymore (remind me to tell you sometime about why I’ve changed my mind.)
Anyway, I was a turtle hero in my early to mid-twenties when I was a young mom who still pulled over to the side of the road each time she saw a turtle working hard to get across.
I was traveling 45 minutes from my house to my parents’ house and spotted a good-sized turtle right on the edge of a town along the way. For those of you who are familiar with the area, it was Gladewater. For those of you who are not familiar, just picture antique stores and one stoplight from where I entered the town to where I exited. Metropolis, it is not.
I got back in my car and drove the rest of the way to my parents’ house angry. Once I got there, I explained the situation (dramatically, I’m sure) to my dad. Gosh, I wish I could have introduced some of you to my dad. Calm, cool, and collected–most of the time. Levelheaded. As I “explained” my frustration to him and how the turtle had done nothing wrong! I had done nothing wrong, and I felt horrible because my standing there may have very well been what got the turtle killed since it appeared the man did it for spite!
Calmly, Dad says, “You are so worried about that turtle. Have you ever stopped to think about the man and what would make someone do such a thing?”
I, a bit flustered with his question, whisper-huffed “Yes.”
Dad said, “No, you haven’t.”
No. I hadn’t.
He talked about taking the time to consider the man and what he could be going or could have gone through to make him angry or hurt enough to hurt others–including an innocent turtle. Dad wasn’t one to put up with mean (unless he was the one executing it.) But, he taught me to look at a situation from more than one perspective and truly decide which one was mean. He didn’t excuse the man’s behavior, but he didn’t excuse mine either.
Since that day, I have often pondered the experience, and many questions come to mind. Questions like:
If the man ran over the turtle on purpose, is it possible he thought it was funny?
If he thought it was funny, what was going on that was hurting so badly it made his reaction to hurt someone else?
Was he trying to avoid the weird woman standing on the side of the road in an abandoned gas station parking lot?
Did he see a woman on the side of the road thinking she might need help?
Was he trying to figure out if she needed help, never seeing the turtle?
Was he so distracted by his worries that neither the turtle nor the woman registered to him?
Do I want a man avoiding a turtle, possibly hitting a woman on the side of the road or oncoming traffic?
And the questions continue. But, only for about 25 years or so. I expect them to cease any moment now.
All jokes aside, I’m glad the questions continue. I’m glad my dad taught me that lesson on that day. After many years and unfortunately many similar lessons, I now choose to see situations and people from more than one perspective. Believe it or not (sometimes I struggle to believe) but the entire world does not revolve around me and my point of view. People are going through a lot. Life is tough. I will likely never know what was going on in the driver's head that day, but what I know is that I can pray for him. I respond to prayer as a situation of “well, I guess I can’t do anything else so I may as well pray about it”. In reality, I should do nothing else until I have prayed about it. It is our most effective way of affecting any situation. Even if I was Superman and jumped in front of the truck to save a helpless turtle would it have been better? The turtle could have been saved, but what about the man? Would I still pray for the man? Would I learn to pray for many others since then? Would I continue assuming my perspective and experience are the only ones that mattered? All the power in the world would not have been as effective as the prayer to shift the most important thing….hearts.
By no means am I saying the death of the turtle didn’t matter. It mattered. But in so many more ways than most of us would realize. Not the least of which, it taught me to quit parking on the side of the road while my young daughter was in the car. Man, my young brain could create some messed up priorities.
My priorities have changed since then, and I know a few things for sure:
I was not the sharpest tool in the shed in my 20s.
Spiritual maturity is a blessing.
I wish I could remember all the lessons I learned from my parents. I still need them.
