hearing voices cont’d…

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I am constantly reminded that I am an exceptionally loud person. My mom loves to tell the story about how when I went to college all of a sudden their house became suprisingly quiet. They had always known they had a fairly busy and loud home, but they didn’t realize that the bulk of the soundwaves were coming out of my mouth. I will say that I like myself loud, although, It wasn’t until recently that I think I received a jolting lesson in appreciating the slower, calm, unhurried, peaceful, quieter possibilities in a day.  Here’s the story:

I have a new haircut guy. And he’s not gay. Seriously, he’s not. He has a wife and two daughters, and I have met the daughters. And he’s a complete hair freaking genius, so I really wouldn’t care if he was. I just say that because that’s what everybody always asks first. Anyway, the other thing about new haircut guy is that he takes 3 months to get an appointment with, so cancellation is not an option. Seriously, short of the rapture, I am making that appointment. I had my last haircut on Wednesday, and I was supposed to take Jane Bradley to my mom’s to keep her because the haircut takes 2 hours… I know…

Anyway, I was my chronically late self, and I was trying to get out of my house, and I had two stops to make on the way to my mom’s, and I had lost my keys. Seriously lost them, like already been back inside and back outside and then back inside again.

The lost car key rage was about to set in. I could feel it creeping up my neck. The high-heels were about to come off, laundry was going to be thrown, and I was about to start getting mad. at my keys. for getting lost… I know.

 Then all of a sudden I heard the voice that said, ” Slow Down. I know where your car keys are. Maybe you’re being detained for a reason.” sidebar: Did your mom ever tell you when things go wrong before you leave  that the timing could be on purpose and what if you were being kept out of an accident on purpose? It was always an attempt at consolation, but sometimes it worked. I thought about that for a minute, and then I asked God to show me where my keys are. As I went back to my car to check on Jane Bradley, there they were. In the door…. funny. You’re real funny…

Off I go to make my stops, drop off Jane Bradley and put my social fate into the hands of slightly neurotic brilliance. And of course, he did not disappoint. The only thing that did was that when I tried to make my next appointment for his recommended 6 week time span, the soonest one available was 9 weeks away. Figures. Seriously, these scizzors are magic…

Okay, so I leave the man and I’m sitting first in line waiting for a left turn arrow, checking my voicemail, feeling my new superchic cut, still not in a hurry. I hadn’t been in a hurry all morning since I fought the rage and calmed down about the dumb keys. Well, I was putting my password in to get my messages and the arrow turned green. I didn’t see it until a couple of seconds later, but the car across from me saw his left turn arrow. He turned and I watched a man in a white panel van to my left crazily run the redlight and T-bone his little orange hatchback about 15 feet from my car. – Man, my heart is racing a little bit just typing this…

Anyway, I don’t know if anyone was hurt, but I do know that if I had been in such a huge hurry in my normal tazmanian devil style, the way I was turning would have put him hitting my driver’s side door head on.

I truly believe that God hid my keys that morning for a reason. I believe that first of all, He wants me to get used to recognizing HIs voice. Secondly, most often He speaks as soft as a whisper, and if I am too loud then I can hear only myself. And after that experience, I’d much rather hear what He has to say.

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