Why are Christians the worst sometimes?

Really? Really?!

I muttered something unkind under my breath.

The guy had broken about three traffic laws while I was driving behind him. In a school zone, nonetheless. He had kids in his car, I had my kids in my car, and I could feel the righteous indignation rising.

With each turn he made, I made the same turn. Not because I was trying to follow him, but because I just happened to be going the same way. Right, left, right, straight, right.

Does this guy live by me? I thought.

Yes, yes he did. I had never met or seen him, but quickly I realized his house was a couple blocks away. Before I knew it, I saw his garage door opening. As he pulled into his driveway and waited for the door to fully open, I slowed and gave him a look.

You know the look, right? It’s when you do that exaggerated head and neck movement to the side, scrunch your forehead and your eyes, and hope that the person sees you looking exasperated and perplexed.

They rarely ever do.

But as I tried my best to send daggers into his rear bumper through my eyes, that’s when I saw it. It was hanging prominently in his garage, and there might has well have been a glow and some angel voices emanating from it as the disappearing garage door revealed it in all its splendor…