I FAILED MY DRIVER’S TEST
I smile as I recall an
incident that occurred when I was just 16 years old. Having obtained my learner’s permit, I enrolled
in the Driver’s Education Course at my alma mater, Monessen High School. The course was taught by one of my football
coaches, the late Andy Yartin. After
several months of intensive practice on the road, he felt I was well prepared
to take my driver’s test so I could become a full-fledged and licensed ‘Master-of-the-Road.’
I breezed handily through
the written exam and then joined the Pennsylvania State Trooper outside to take
my road test. I recall feeling somewhat nervous
and silently coaxing myself to breathe and relax. We drove along a simulated highway, a course
designed specifically to test the skill of rookie drivers. It contained traffic signs, highway markings,
S-curves and that much dreaded opportunity for parallel parking.
I was performing quite well
and feeling psychologically inebriated with overflowing assurance that I had
passed my driver’s test and would receive my official license mere moments
hence. Unfortunately, my optimism
created a sense of overconfidence and I failed to completely halt the vehicle
at the final stop sign. Uh-oh!
When the examining trooper
informed me of this, I was totally shocked and outraged at my sheer
stupidity! Feeling totally exasperated, I
slammed the automatic gearshift into the park setting and disappointedly struck
the steering wheel with open palms. The
trooper looked over at me rather casually and said, “You really did a great job
throughout the test course, and I was going to pass you despite your mistake,
but that emotional outburst leads me to believe you’re not quite ready to get
your driver’s license.” I was absolutely
dumbfounded and surprised because I had been accustomed to succeeding, not
failing.
The ride home felt very
much like a funeral procession; my sorrow was painful and palpable. Mr. Yartin was at the wheel of the Driver’s
Ed vehicle, and I was seated in the back seat, sandwiched in between two
classmates who had actually passed their driver’s tests. Surveying my mood in the rearview mirror, my
coach-instructor smiled and said, “Wayne, there’s always tomorrow.”
For two weeks, nearly all I
could think about was my ‘failure problem.’
I desperately needed to redirect my focus. I needed perspective. Moments before my second shot at the test,
Mr. Yartin looked me in the eye and repeated his words spoken after my previous
failed attempt: “There’s always tomorrow.”
It was on that glorious,
sunny, Friday afternoon in the month of May, in Greensburg, Pennsylvania, that
Wayne Manning Bass passed his driver’s test with flying colors!
It
reminds me of the words of Celia Luce: “A small trouble is like a pebble. Hold it too close to your eye and it fills the
whole world and puts everything out of focus. Hold it at a proper distance and it can be
examined and properly classified. Throw
it at your feet and it can be seen in its true setting, just one more bump on
the pathway to life.” In other words, life happens.
Hindsight
is twenty-twenty vision. Looking back at
my perceived ‘calamity’ at age 16, I realize that I did not even know what real
problems were! So here’s something terribly
important for all of us to ponder. Instead
of getting bent-out-of-shape over everything that comes our way, we should ask God for perspective. Even monumental problems eventually reach
resolution or simply fade from view. When
we begin to see issues and problems as GOD sees them, we activate faith in His Word,
which is tantamount to an expression of confidence in His overall plan for us. Do you remember the last situation that God
got you through? Well, if He did it back
then…He will surely do it again!
Sisters and brothers, be
continually blessed, and please (above all else) MAKE SURE YOU ARE READY TO
MEET OUR SOON COMING KING. Maranatha!
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