I FAILED MY DRIVER'S TEST

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 our 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 rather nervous and silently coaxing myself to breathe and relax.  We drove along a simulated highway, a course designed specifically to test the skills 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 struck the steering wheel with open palms.  The trooper looked over at me and rather casually stated, “You really did a good job on our test course, and I was going to pass you in spite of your mistake, but this emotional reaction leads me to believe you’re not quite ready to get your 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 to me; my sorrow was painful and palpable.  Mr. Yartin was at the wheel of the Driver’s Education vehicle, and I was seated in the back seat, sandwiched in between two classmates who had 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.”

 And 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!

 In 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 20/20 vision.  Looking back at my perceived ‘calamity’ at age 16, I realize that I did not even realize what ‘real’ problems were!  Here’s something terribly important to personally ponder.  Instead of getting all bent-out-of-shape over anything 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 challenges as GOD sees them, we activate faith in His Word, which is tantamount to an expression of complete confidence in His plans for us.  Can you recall 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!