The time I learned to ride a bicycle (3rd grade), we lived next to a huge parking lot that was a paradise to ride around in. I remember one afternoon, on my bicycle on the sidewalk about to turn the corner and come home, my "brain computer" jammed. I saw a postman--there was no e-mail; we wrote letters back then--walking in my direction. If I turned the corner, I would run straight into him. I COULDN'T!!! My brain froze. Instead of turning the handle, I let the bicycle plow on straight ahead...into the car parked at the curb!
Bonk. (Good thing my child's bicycle wasn't going very fast anyway.) The bicycle's rubber wheels hit the car's metal fenders, spilling me onto the grass. The mailman came running, questions flying.
"What are you doing? Are you all right? What happened?"
"I...I saw you...I was going to turn the corner...But if I did, I knew I would run into you, and I didn't want to do that, so I didn't know what to do and kept going straight" (like the time I stayed on the bus and went all the way to the terminal!)
"Why didn't you just put on the brakes?"
"I...yeah...uh....I didn't think about it." I didn't know what to say, really.
I think he saw I wasn't hurt (except my silly pride) and sent me back home reminding me to use the brakes next time. I can't remember too clearly. That's a memory I don't often think about, try to forget, actually; don't really know why I'm sharing it with you. Perhaps it's to show God can choose things this unbelievably foolish to serve Him and glorify Himself--all He asks is that we say, okay God, YOU DO YOUR THING, because I've proven I can make a mess doing mine.
My brain seems to put on its brakes at the wrong time then get locked in stupid.
