A few months ago, I was driving when a car behind me started flashing its lights.
The driver clearly wanted me to speed up or give way.
As I usually do, I made space and let the car pass.
As it overtook me, the driver rolled down the window.
“Why are you driving so slowly?”
A few more words followed.
None of them were kind.
I didn’t respond.
I simply continued driving at the pace I was comfortable with.
About fifteen minutes later, traffic came to a complete stop.
There were hazard lights everywhere.
People had gathered.
As I slowly drove past, I recognised the same car.
It had been involved in a serious accident.
I later learned that someone had lost their life.
I drove away in complete silence.
Not because I believed the accident was a punishment.
Not because I thought, “They deserved it.”
But because I realised how little we know about the next fifteen minutes of our lives.
That day stopped being about driving.
It became a lesson about life.
Sometimes people will pressure you to move at their pace.
To rush your career.
To rush your healing.
To rush your business.
To rush decisions you’re not yet ready to make.
And when you refuse, they may even make you feel as though you’re falling behind.
But I’ve learned that pace is personal.
Not everyone moving faster is moving wiser.
Not everyone overtaking you is ahead of you.
Sometimes wisdom looks slow.
Sometimes maturity looks like restraint.
Sometimes saying, “I’m not ready yet,” is one of the bravest decisions you can make.
The book of Ecclesiastes has always humbled me because it holds two truths in tension.
First, it reminds us that “time and chance happen to them all.” (Ecclesiastes 9:11)
No matter how carefully we plan, none of us knows what the next fifteen minutes hold.
Life can change in an instant.
But the same book also reminds us that “to everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” (Ecclesiastes 3:1)
That tells me that while life is unpredictable, God is not.
His timing is never rushed.
His purposes are never delayed.
His plans are never threatened by the pace of the people around me.
So these days, I no longer feel the need to explain why I’m moving at the pace I am.
I don’t have to compete with someone else’s timeline.
I don’t have to rush because someone else thinks I’m behind.
My prayer has become simple:
“Lord, help me move at the pace of Your wisdom, not at the pace of other people’s expectations.”
Because life is not a race against the person in the next lane.
The goal is not to arrive first.
The goal is to arrive where God has called you, in His timing, with your peace, your purpose, and your life intact.