CTR

It is 4pm on a Monday afternoon. I'm taking my daughter, Winter, and the daughter of a friend of mine to Wal-Mart to get some bread and some fabric. The bread, because-- so far-- Jacob only eats the Wal-Mart brand of wheat bread (he doesn't believe in branching out), and the fabric, because we are making a quilt. My friend just had some surgery done on her foot, and as is tradition in our family, we make a quilt for those who have had surgery/ hospital time. This time, we are engaging the assistance of my friend's daughter to make it.

Back to the 4pm:

We pull into the parking lot, and I aim for the parking aisle with the flag pole. (Landmarks and patterns of parking are SUCH a good thing when I park in a giant lot. It can be worse than trying to find your car in the parking lot at LegoLand, because there are none of those handy 'You parked in the _____ zone' signs.) Anyways, I spy a parking place up ahead on the left, but I can't get to it just yet as there is a car ahead of me. There is another car that looks like it may turn into the aisle, so I flip my turn signal on. As the car in front of me leaves, and I pull forward, the driver-- a woman as I can now see-- shakes her head at me, and makes a quick turn into the spot.

Really?!

I feel all sorts of things: anger, frustration, and a strong desire to just park right behind her, turn off my engine, and claim I'm having 'car trouble' and I just *can't* get it to start up again.

But I don't. I've got two young ladies in the car, and they are watching me. And-- to be honest-- I wouldn't do that anyways. (I also didn't think of it until five minutes ago). But hours later I'm still feeling frustration over the tendancy of people to take what they want, and stomp on people. And then SMILE. As if they've won some sort of highly prized 'Anti-Humanitarian Award'.

The parking place isn't a big deal. Winter helped me find another one that was closer anyways. (Thank you Winter!) I couldn't help but think as I drove away from the area that on my car are the letters CTR. Choose the Right. And as such, I do strive to do that. It isn't easy. It isn't a collection of letters that mean I will always win-- because 'Right' doesn't. Even 'right' loses sometimes in this world. But CTR isn't just a guideline for how to play the game of life. It is also a way to live-- even when you lose.