There I was…
Sitting in a bumper car amid youthful eyes, pigtails, and hopeful expressions. The ride was for all sizes 42” and above. My 77” self barely fit in the cart. Around me were those barely crossing the line from restricted red to admission blue.
As innocence was radiating from the children behind the wheel, maybe for the first time ever in that position, I looked at them and then their observing parents. One father’s eyes met mine. His protection sensors went up.
Fathers can feel this sort of thing.
He looked at me. Looked at the other small children. I looked at his wrist. No wristband. He couldn’t get in. Decided to save some money and not spring for the $50 ticket to ride with his kids. I get that.
I sprung for it. Now in a moment I had a choice to make. Do I smash full force with my 265 pounds of momentum gaining energy behind every inch of rubber track, jolting the kids into puberty? Or do I settle, drive around and seek out only my own seed to smash from the side?
The little buzzer went off.
I glimpsed at the sign “no headfirst bumping.” I thought about this rule for a second.
I saw a kid, he was headed my way. I evaded him.
With the 360 degree turn radius I spun around and headed in the opposite direction.
I was rear ended. I went ahead, saw two girls, sisters I assume. Rolling around laughing at the fact they keep getting stuck. I decide to head in their direction, to lightly bump them loose.
They turn into me.
SMASH!
Headfirst and it looked like I was seeking them out. I quickly spin the wheel, to back out, leave them be in the wake of their trauma.
I await the screams from an irritated parent.
I turn around.
SMASH
The child looks at me after the recoil of the abrupt stop of his cart. His head pulls up. The brief life he’s lived shows like a movie projected across his eyes.
I back up again and break free from the multi-cart pileup. Free now to steer clear of anymore lives I don’t want to destroy.
The gravitas of the situation enhanced by adult eyes, my peers with children younger than mine, make me want to park my cart and throw my hands up.
SMASH
This same boy as before, a kid with a mullet peering at me like I’m his elementary school bully. I smile a bit at him and he grits his teeth and drives forward at me again.
Bump this time, but pushes me into the wall.
“Ha. Alright, got me.” I say lightly.
He bumps me again. Then he follows me, chasing me like a sugar-crazed kid who didn’t take his morning medications.
I glance at the parents…no one seems to be watching him. I pull forward a bit, spinning the wheel to come at him with the little distance I have.
“You little brat” I think to myself, feeling the surge of energy through my hands and electrifying my left leg to slam down the little red button to charge the car forward.
“You think it’s funny you little….”
BUZZ! “Alright riders, please wait till your cart comes to a complete stop before exiting the vehicle.”
The overhead voice finishes and pan out to see my cart and the boys a few inches from the fronts of the carts meeting.
I come back to reality. The fog lifts. I am me again, a father, a loving…um at least understanding follower of Christ.
I….I sort of blanked on my identities and went to this realm of emotions.
I relied on my body to tell me what to do, rather than what I know to do. I felt annoyed and competitively wanted to smash this annoying bug of a boy into bumper cart oblivion.
Who was that guy? Where did he come from?
“I’ve been here the whole time.” My mind says to me.
Welp, guess I have some work left to do, and that doesn’t mean honing in on my bumper cart skills. But to humble my self that I might not be as good as I think I am.
To choose the light, you’ve got to know the darkness inside of you.
From Where I Stand 