Life In The Slow Lane

I am learning that I have joined a new crowd. For the sake of a better term, I am calling it “The Slow Lane Crowd.” This doesn’t have anything to do with the lane I use on the freeway, but the way I must approach life. I have lived a pretty fast paced life with school, and ministry, and writing, and family responsibilities. People used to look at my activity level and ask how I did it all?

My new lifestyle is highlighted by knee replacements, spine surgeries, arthritis, sorting out night-time medication from day-time medication, naps, and waiting for others to do what I can no longer do for myself. I have hit the slow lane with my brakes overheated. I am barely moving, and I still feel like I need one of those run away truck ramps to slow me even further.

I find myself in the position that every generation inevitably joins. It is the period where I find myself quoting my mother. “You go ahead, I’ll be fine.” “Have you seen my cane?” “Do whatever you need to do, I’ll just sit here.” “Let me know when you need me to move.” I understand how she must feel using those phrases all of the time. I wish I could go, but as my grand father used to say, “My get up and go, done got up and went.”

As a new member of the slow lane crowd, I’m practicing slow lane etiquette, but I am not quite there yet. So I struggle, and get frustrated when things don’t work out the way I expect. But I am working at getting to know the members of my new society. I am shocked at how many faint scars I see across the knees of other slow laner’s.