Passing Me By

I hate catching the bus to church. I admit, getting up early on Sunday, to get on a bus more than three hours before I have to be there…well, it sucks. Adding to the dreadful experience is the second bus I transfer to, in order to get to my church. There’s always some type of incident.

Yesterday, there was a film production downtown causing all the buses to detour. I thought my stop would avoid the confusion but I was very mistaken. I panicked when the driver yelled, “Last stop,” and I had no idea where we were. I got off the bus and began walking down some street but was stopped by security. “This street is closed. They’re filming.”

I turned around and began to panic. I had to calm myself down as the tears formed in my eyes. I was scheduled to teach at our youth church for the first time. I could not be late today. I kept walking a few blocks and saw a bus stop with my route number. Now, I felt stupid for getting crazy. I realized the real reason I got upset. What really bothered me was the fact that filming was delaying my arrival.

Acting is what I want to do. A set location is where I want to be. It is such a fight not to be discouraged when I see billboards for new shows or when I pass studios. All I think about are the acting jobs that exist that I do not have.

I stood at the bus stop for a few minutes. Suddenly, I looked down the street and saw the bus I was waiting on, turn the opposite direction. WHAT!!!!?? Here I am waiting, where the sign says. I’m standing where I’m supposed to be! And the freaking bus is passing me by!

Talk about a metaphor.

The bus stopped about a block away. The man waiting with me, took off running. I hesitated.

I realize, while writing this, I tend to do that often. For some reason, sometimes, my first reaction when faced with the slightest detour, is to give up. In that moment, I was willing to accept being late to my first teaching opportunity. There are times I am willing to accept defeat because it is easier. Running towards my opportunity seemed pointless, or more accurately, too hard.

I watched the man running for a few seconds. The bus had not moved. I felt stupid waiting at the stop when my bus was clearly in reach. All I had to do was run one block. If only I would do a little work that I did not expect, I could get to my destination. If I could just get over my pride in appearance and just be OK with looking a little silly, I would be able to complete my assignment.

I took off running. I got to the intersection and stopped. The pedestrian light was blinking. I watched the man get on the bus. Now, I had to decide if I was willing to take a risk. If I stood at the corner and waited for the next light, I would surely miss the bus. Again, for a brief moment, I thought about giving up. There were cars at the light. The drivers would be pissed if I walked in the crosswalk and their light turned green. But, I felt it. They were not going to hit me. My Father was not going to let them hit me. I ran through the crosswalk.

I made it to the bus.

“Thank you for waiting,” I said.
“No problem,” the driver replied with a smile.

She waited for me. The bus had been waiting the whole time.
I did not miss my bus. I have not missed my destiny.

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