Stepping Into Traffic

When I was in 6th grade we were given the opportunity to have "real jobs" because of our age and maturity. We were given the chance to be crossing guards at the 8 intersections around the school! Coolness! Arriving at school 30 minutes early, out of class 15 minutes early, we felt like big stuff with our orange belts slashed across the left shoulder and a proud long broomstick handle flag to stop all threatening traffic. We will make sure all traffic stops for us!

So we would all walk to our assigned corner and stand there, waiting for walkers to come and "need our help" to get across the street. We weren't allowed to leave the corner, just wave our long-handled flag out to catch drivers attention so they would stop appropriately. It didn't take long for the coolness factor to wear off - we really weren't doing anything in the matter of safety - we weren't the reason why people would stop. No one would stop for our tiny flag fluttering from the distance of the corner.

No the real power was held by the crossing guards who were adults, at the extra busy corners, who would with all the boldness and strength and confidence in the world would step out into traffic, bringing all moving vehicles to a halt until all the lengthy parade of skipping, bookbag wearing learners would march past them.

Stepping into traffic.

With my morning commute being so brief, a slight 1.5 miles from home to corps, the drive is rarely eventful. I never hear a song all the way through so I don't listen to the radio - I simply observe as much as I can. I rarely even need the gas pedal, letting the engine idle coast me to work. Swerve left, then quickly right, successfully accomplishing the pot-hole slalom which is directly before the only light on the trip. Things are going well - it's going to be a pretty day, a busy day, a blessed day..

But I am abruptly startled into action, needing the brakes when directly before the corps, there is a 14 month old baby in the devil strip, dangling his toes over the curb, sucking his thumb in a "boy am I sleepy" position. He's only wearing a diaper, no socks or shoes and it is only 57 degrees - he's got to be freezing! I am not the only vehicle on the road - this is going to be dangerous in a heartbeat. I coast into my driveway and jump out as smoothly as I can. As I am walking near him, I am searching for his mother - in my lobby (no), in my parking lot (no) in the Rite Aid parking lot (no) in the front, side or back yard (no) on the porch (no). As I step slowly closer, he begins to move sideways and closer to traffic. This is getting bad fast, as drivers are simply shaking their heads as they speed past and neighbors are observing the "a.m. entertainment" not wanting to get involved. There is only one thing to do.

Step into traffic.

Cars stop and wait, as I am able to step close enough to reach him, pick him up and step to the pedestrian safety of the sidewalk. Inside I am furiously seething, "I could be a stranger with the worst of intentions and NO ONE is here to stop me from leaving, never seeing this little one ever again." But I am not a stranger to him, and I know which apartment he lives in. As I walk up to his home, his large espresso colored eyes let me know he's barely awake. I don't know how long he's been outside, but he is so cold it takes my breath away.

Stepping into traffic.

This is not a "dump and dash" excursion to this house, I have to be very serious about everything that has happened. And under control. I have to communicate and listen. I may have a professional obligation, I also must have a courageous obligation. I need to be willing to step into the traffic of this situation with boldness and confidence, willing to take the risk.

Risking her fury or criticism, I must wake his mother up. Risking her startled list of excuses, I have to recap the Jim Beam and put it above the refrigerator, box up the cigarettes and put them in the cleaning closet "These are deadly to your 3 babies. Careless sips because they are thirsty or eating just one cigarette - it can kill them!" Risking her anger bounced to her other children, I have to explain where her son was instead of being "watched" by his 3yr old brother. Risking her never accepting our corps invitation to join us for worship or children's programs, I need to express to her that two other agency directors in our town who drove by this circumstance, one of them being connected to Children's Services.

Step into the dangerous traffic that surrounds you, willing to risk your time, your schedule, your plans, your leisure activity. Don't sweep someone's careless threat of suicide away - step into the traffic and invest yourself in the name of Christ Jesus to express hope, and action and concern. Step into the traffic of grief and offer more than a dry handkerchief - embrace and share compassion. Invest yourself with your teenagers, with the message of purity, modesty and language. With the stop sign in your hand and the confidence of God's righteousness, address the gossip and lies that are attempted to be spread in your presence.

In the name of God, make your presence known.

Step into the traffic with a prayer and boldness. God is right there with you.

Isaiah 41:10 "So do not fear, for I AM with you, says the LORD; do not be dismayed, for I AM your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with My righteous right hand." NIV