What Are You Doing at Red Lights?
I drive 48 miles one way to work.
On workdays, I drop Everly off at school and then begin the hour-long drive to Waco. By the time I make it through the school parking lot, the traffic, the construction, all the stops, and what feels like every red light between Temple and the salon, I have spent a whole lot of time in my car.
But this isn’t really a story about my commute.
It’s about what happens in the in-between moments—the red lights, the quiet stretches of highway, the unexpected interruptions, and the people we may only share the road with for a few seconds.
What Are We Looking At?
Seven-year-olds have a funny way of getting distracted by everything behind them. I’ll catch Everly turned around, completely focused on what has already passed us, without realizing that life is still happening in front of her.
If we’re honest, adults do that too.
We replay what happened yesterday. We worry about what someone said. We look back at what hurt us, what scared us, or what we wish we had done differently. Meanwhile, the light in front of us has turned green.
When you’re driving, you have to pay attention to what is ahead. If you’re sitting at a stoplight focused on everything except the road, you may miss your chance to move. You may hold up someone who is in a hurry. You may even put yourself or someone else in danger.
Life can be the same way.
There are moments when we need to look back, learn, grieve, and remember. But we cannot spend our entire lives turned around. At some point, we have to face forward again.
The Stranger Who Stopped
A few days ago, I was driving to work on a stretch of the loop that is under construction.
Because of the roadwork, I had to take the side road nearly all the way to where Buc-ee’s meets I-35.
I was driving the 50-mile-per-hour speed limit when a Jeep came over without signaling and essentially ran me off the road.
I had to drive up onto the grass, avoid a sign, and get back onto the roadway before reaching the temporary concrete barriers. It all happened in one motion, but it felt like everything slowed down. It scared the absolute mess out of me.
A truck behind me saw the whole thing.
Once I was safely back on the road, I realized I couldn’t quite catch my breath or get my bearings. I pulled into Buc-ee’s, parked, and sat there for a minute trying to calm myself down.
Then that same truck pulled up beside me.
The driver, a man probably around my age, honked gently and waved. I rolled down my window and asked, “Can I help you?”
He said, “Are you okay? I saw everything. I just wanted to check on you.”
That was it.
He didn’t know me. He didn’t have to stop. There was nothing in it for him. He simply saw something frightening happen to another person and cared enough to make sure she was okay.
Every time I tell that story, someone says, “See? There are still good people in the world.”
And there are.
Social media can make it feel like the world is filled only with people doing cruel, careless, or ridiculous things. But every day, ordinary people are quietly checking on strangers, opening doors, offering help, saying prayers, and showing kindness without ever recording it or posting it online.
Goodness is still happening. Sometimes you just have to look beside you long enough to notice it.
A Friend for One Red Light
This morning, I pulled up to one of those enormous intersections with multiple lanes going in every direction. I was in the right lane because I needed to turn. A truck was sitting in the turning lane beside me.
For once, I glanced over.
The man in the truck had his window down, and he gave me the biggest, friendliest smile. I smiled back. Nothing strange. Nothing dramatic. Just two people acknowledging each other for a second.
As we sat there, I quietly asked God to protect him as he went about his day.
Then the light turned green. We all took off in different directions, and in my mind I thought, “Okay, friend. See you later.”
I’ll probably never see him again. I don’t know his name, where he was going, what he was carrying, or what kind of day was waiting for him.
But for one red light, we shared the same little space in the world. And for one moment, he was prayed for by someone he will probably never know prayed for him.
That has stayed with me.
What Are You Doing With the Quiet?
Maybe that is the real question I’ve been thinking about: What are we doing with the quiet moments?
What are we doing at the red lights?
What are we doing during the commute, in the school pickup line, while waiting for an appointment, or in the few minutes before the next responsibility begins?
A lot of my drive is spent talking to God. Sometimes I pray for the day ahead. Sometimes I pray over my family. Sometimes I call a friend and pray with her because she needs it right then—or because she may need it for something she hasn’t reached yet.
Sometimes I call one of my Jack Winn Pro friends just to talk. An hour can sound like a long time until I’m talking with my friend Julia, who has a two-hour commute. Then the time goes by much too quickly.
I also listen. I love learning, reading, and sharing what I discover with other people. It is one of the reasons I’ve thought about starting a YouTube channel. Teaching excites me, but so does being taught. I think we are meant to pass good things back and forth—knowledge, encouragement, prayer, laughter, and kindness.
Last night, my mom sent our family a song called “Bless Me Like That” by May the Lord Studio. We listened to it, and Everly fell asleep while it played. It is so good—one of those songs that stays with you after it ends.
Maybe blessings do not always arrive as something big and obvious.
Maybe sometimes a blessing looks like having just enough grass beside the road to avoid a concrete wall.
Maybe it looks like a stranger who witnessed the whole thing and cared enough to follow you into a parking lot.
Maybe it looks like a smile through an open truck window.
Maybe it looks like a red light that gives you just enough time to notice another person and ask God to carry them safely through whatever comes next.
We are all moving in different directions. We all have somewhere to be. But every now and then, our paths pause beside one another.
The next time that happens, look up.
Someone beside you may need a smile. Someone ahead of you may need patience.
Someone behind you may need grace. And someone you will never meet may need the prayer God places on your heart.
Then the light will turn green, and you’ll both move on.
“Okay, friend. See you later.”
A question for you: What do you do with the quiet, in-between moments of your day?
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