Unfortunately, moments of pure clarity don’t happen often. Thankfully, that means they do happen rarely. For some people, that may mean God is trying to tell them something. For others, they are having an epiphany that change must happen.
Regardless of your perspective, I had one of these moments very recently.
I was driving to work one morning.
I’ve written about aspects of my commute several times in these articles, but suffice it to say, I drive a 75-minute commute every morning and afternoon, crossing a time zone in the process. It is not uncommon for one or both of my trips to be in nighttime conditions – especially in winter months, which is when this happened.
I was driving along Highway 30 early one morning, and it was very dark. The night before had been a no-moon night. As I was driving, I noted the darkness ahead looked wrong. The consistency of the darkness was off somehow. It was darker than it should be.
It was wrong.
With nothing else to go on but that odd observation, I decided to slow down considerably. A few moments later, I was forced to slam on the brakes when I realized something big and dark was in the road.
A semi was crossing 30, and it had a black trailer with no side lights whatsoever. For whatever reason, it was crossing slowly.
I slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop just a few feet short of the semi, which is how I realized what it was.
My heart was in my throat. My hands were shaking.
This was close.
After it passed, I resumed my drive and took a sip of my morning coffee when it hit me. Had I not slowed down, that collision would have likely ended my life. The way the hood of my car lined up to their trailer – I would have been gone.
The last time I saw my kids would have been the last time they had a father.
The last words I said to my wife would have been my last words to anyone.
I couldn’t even remember what I said.
For six years, I’ve been doing this drive back and forth between home and work, and for six years I’ve said the phrase “one more year” while having near misses here and there every year.
That’s when my moment of clarity came to me.
I knew the commute had to end. When I came home and talked to my wife about it, she shared with me that she was already in that space after a different event I wrote about a few months ago.
So, after being blessed with writing for GreatNews for several years, I’m going to be leaving the area and subsequently leaving GreatNews.
I always wanted to be a writer. Before I wanted to be or do anything else in my life, I wanted to write.
Thank you for three glorious years of writing to you about something I love. I’m not a CEO – I’m not a C-anything. I’m just someone who loves leadership and the opportunity to tell these stories has meant the world to me.
Spend time with the people you love and make sure they know that you love them. I know I plan to.