I’ve peeled away the veil on driving in Paraguay. I’ve revealed to you the dirty underbelly of half-asphalt, half-cobblestone streets. The simple truth is traffic is like break dancing in a dumpster full of broken glass and scrap metal. At times, it’s beautiful chaos. Four factors bring this documentary-turned-dystopia to life.
- There is no examination for a driving license. No book test. No skills test. There are two prerequisites. You must be older than 18 and you must be able to pay the fee.
- There are no police in cars to pursue. Cops are generally set up at random check points on foot to write tickets that fund the municipality.
- There is a huge number of first-time drivers. As a developing nation, pockets of the country are becoming financially stable and thus purchasing transportation without any prior experience. See number 1.
- Prevailing wisdom is that if a space seems big enough for my vehicle then I should put it there. That means splitting the lane to get up front at a traffic light. It means scooting across an intersection with just the faintest sliver of space before on coming traffic T-Bones you.
Our town is doing a ton of construction right now. This past week I had 3 close calls at the same intersection. Drivers who thought they could make it but really couldn’t without my harsh braking. In one instance I watched the driver stop at the stop sign. He looked at me coming for a 3-count then decided to go. It was close enough to be my choice whether to hit him or not. I chose not to.
But, I wanted to.
I wanted to hit the guy. In telling the story to my wife I said,
“My gut reaction was to just hit him and sort it out later.”
For those who don’t know, a gut reaction is like a chain reaction but slightly more gooey and without a chain. Anyway.
There it is. I don’t think I am making good use of Jesus’ guts. I don’t think Jesus’ guts would react like mine did. So have I put on this Christianity like a suit coat? Does it permeate my “heart of hearts”? BTW, if your heart of hearts has a heart attack, will you die? Nevermind.
Gut check time.
What do your guts look like? Are your guts like Jesus’ guts? Should I capitalize “guts” if I am referring to those that belong to Jesus?