Do You Have Any Idea Who I Am?

Last fall I was running errands in town and needed to drop something off at church.  As I walked up the sidewalk to the door, a car pulled up behind me and the older man driving started yelling at me.  I turned around to see who he was yelling at, and was shocked his tyrant was directed towards me.  He was mad at me for not stopping long enough at the stop sign up the road.  (I know I did stop for my 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi).  I tried to tell him that I did stop, but he was so angry there was no reasoning with this man.  As I went to turn away and proceed with my day, (and yes he was still yelling), out of my mouth came these words:  "Do you have any idea who I am?"  I did not say this because I'm some sort of Diva.  I said it because I really wanted to know if he knew me.  Did this man who decided to follow me into my church parking lot know me?  I'm not talking about my name, or who my family is.  I'm talking about me.

I have learned at a pretty young age some very important information about life.  Don't judge.  Be patient.  Don't sweat the small stuff.  It's not easy, but I work at it every day. 

When I was told that my husband was not going to live after his accident and that I would have to make some of the biggest decisions of my life soon, my life changed.  I could never be the same person again. 

When it's February and I see someone's  Christmas lights still on at night.  That person's lawn hasn't been mowed for a while.  She's home all day and her house is a mess.  The lady at the grocery store seems like she's on another planet!  That guy can't find his keys again!

These are just a few things I know I was guilty of, but luckily my neighbors and friends understood.  They were more concerned about me than my lights and lawn.  I would even get phone calls reminding me to shut my garage door at night because they cared.  What about in public though, when most people didn't know why I walked through a store like a zombie, or I'd silently cry at restaurants with my friends.  I couldn't concentrate on little things like paying a bill!  Did people judge me?

I walk through life with a little more compassion than I did before my husband was killed.  I try to remember that I really don't know the road the person in line ahead of me is traveling.  What crosses are they bearing? 

When I think back to that fall day when I was just trying to accomplish a few things on my list, I am grateful that it wasn't the day that I walked the same sidewalk into those same doors just months before to plan my husbands funeral.  That man had no idea who I was and I didn't know who he was.  I do know that I went on with my day with a little more compassion towards the people I met along my way.