by Harold Curtis

I jerk the steering wheel hard to the right to keep from sideswiping the car in the next lane. Regaining control as blood returns to my knuckles, I wonder why this experience is happening again. Why must that blind spot hide there behind my left shoulder? I don’t lack driving experience, and checking the rearview mirror, the side mirror, and glancing over that left shoulder before changing lanes is a habit. Still, near misses happen, and this time that blaring horn will not stop ringing in my ears. I need to eliminate that blind spot.

Upon reaching home, I take a minute to check email. The Internet headline of a deadly, multi-car crash glares back at me from the computer screen and reminds me of my own close call. With the power of the Internet at my fingertips, I type in a few key words, and a couple clicks later I’m reading a possible solution to my blind-spot problem.

“No way,” I say aloud. “It can’t be that easy!” Nevertheless, there it is. An adjustment of the side mirrors eliminates the driver’s blind spot. It sounds simplistic, but I decide to try it.

The next morning as I watch the garage door open in the rearview mirror I remember the blind-spot problem. So I follow the directions: Lean to the left until your head is against the side window. Adjust the left side mirror so the rear end of the vehicle is just visible. With both hands on the steering wheel, lean as far as possible to the right, then adjust the right side mirror so the rear end of the car is just visible.

Before I even put the car in reverse, I know I hate the new mirror positions. I can’t see the relationship between the side of the car and the garage door opening without leaning way over. I’m tempted to readjust the mirrors back to their “normal” position, but I remember the statement that the adjustment takes some getting used to. I awkwardly back out of the garage.

After navigating into the morning rush of traffic, I find myself constantly checking all three mirrors. There seems to be more of a blind spot now than before. Then the opportunity arrives to put the blind-spot plan to the test; a car pulls out to pass on the left. I watch carefully and notice that a portion of the car is still visible in the center mirror as the car appears in the left side mirror. But now the real test. I watch the road, but also keep glancing at the car in my side mirror. Suddenly I see the car in my peripheral vision just as its image disappears from my side mirror. There is no blind spot!

The plan works, but I continue to hate the position of the mirrors—even after several weeks. An overly stressful workday makes the annoyance too great, and I readjust the mirrors to their former position. How comfortable the view seems, and the tension begins to drain from my shoulders.

Continuing my drive home, I check the mirrors, press down on the accelerator pedal, take a glance over my left shoulder, pull out to pass, and am greeted by a blaring horn heralding the return of the blind spot. My knuckles remain white as I recall the complete lack of close calls when the mirrors were set in that recommended, though awkward, position.

My daily commutes give me time to reflect on other blind spots in my life—blind spots that may be impossible to correct, or even discern, without heavenly help. I read God’s definition of love, witness His living interpretation of it through His Son, and wonder which blind spots keep me from loving like Jesus. I read what a Spirit-filled person should be, and wonder what adjustments I need to make so my life bears spiritual fruit. I am frustrated at my pathetic excuses: It’s awkward; it’s annoying; it’s uncomfortable. Then God reminds me that the first step is to stop looking at myself in the mirror, and to look instead at Jesus. “I will instruct you,” He says, “and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you” (Psalm 32:8).

Harold Curtis, who works for Pacific Press Publishing Association in Nampa, Idaho, worked previously as a press operator for Christian Record Services for the Blind. Before that he worked in Christian publishing in Russia for several years.