Each restless heart beats so imperfectly.

I was driving Kevin to school. There was no reason for us to be leaving so late. I just got distracted by something that should have waited. To get out of our neighborhood we have to do a U-turn on a road where traffic is thick and slow at this time of morning because everyone uses it to go to work. Sometimes when the cars are all stopped people are nice and leave some space for us to get in, but usually there is a wait.

On this morning no opportunities to make the U-turn were coming up. There was a bright yellow car waiting behind me. He took an opportunity when there was no traffic on the right to swerve around me and turn so that he was positioned to turn before me.

I was mad. This happens occasionally when there's rush hour traffic, and I hate it. I sat there fuming, thinking, "Oh, so you think wherever you're going is for some reason more important than me getting my son to school? Guess what? My son's in first grade, and any first grader knows that what you just did is called cutting, and it's very rude--and especially rude when you're in a car and could cause an accident with a stunt like that."

I finally got mad enough and frustrated enough with the traffic that I decided to take a different route even though I knew it would definitely make Kevin late for school. I also changed the radio from a depressing NPR story to a Men of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir CD, although I wasn't really listening because I was annoyed at the guy in the yellow car and frustrated that Kevin was going to be so late.

Then a gentle pressure from the Spirit urged me to actually listen to the music, and I heard, "Each restless heart beats so imperfectly," from their version of "You Raise Me Up."

Instantly I felt humbled. That guy in the yellow car is imperfect. But so am I. And wasn't I just pleading last night for forgiveness for giving in to a weakness I've been struggling with for years?

Still I resisted for a while. I was still annoyed. "Really, Heavenly Father? You mean I don't even get the luxury of staying mad at that jerk for cutting me off like that?"

"Uh, no."

And of course when I forced myself to calm down and work on forgiving, the absurdity of the situation hit me, because really, was it worth it to waste my morning being angry at some stranger who was in a hurry? Of course not. And when I came to that realization I felt grateful to God for changing my heart and raising me up so I wouldn't wallow in some petty annoyance.