Photo by Meriç Dağlı on Unsplash

Not quite Saul on the road to Damascus, but on I-35, my recent road trip to Austin took an unexpected turn that led me to see the light on how we Americans can transcend our tragic state of polarization, which is taking a toll, not only on lifelong friendships but on families and marriages, as well.

In five years of driving my hyper fuel-efficient plug-in Chevy Volt, I’ve never run of gas. I’ve been spoiled by how rarely I need to fill up, although long distances require vigilance. Once the charge ran out in the battery, I knew I needed to rely on gas, but when I got the warning that gas was low, I kept waiting for a better place to exit until I finally ran out of options. Stranded without an address to call Uber, I decided this was my mess to clean up, so I got out of the car, switched my black boots for tennis shoes and started walking.

To say the view looks different on foot may be stating the obvious, but trudging along the highway in Troy, TX, changed me. What from the comfort of my car looked like boring auto repair shops became beacons of hope perfectly situated to serve the needs of travelers.

Thankfully, one of these businesses emerged about a mile ahead of where I left my car, so I gladly left the frontage road to walk up the muddy hill to Youngblood Auto & Tire. Laurie at the front desk welcomed me, heard my plight and invited me to take a seat while she looked for help in the garage. For several minutes, I basked in the comfort of their waiting room and watched TV until an auto mechanic named Colby offered to drive me to fill up my car.

As we climbed into his black Mustang, I apologized for taking him away from his work. “Are you kidding?” he said. “I love any excuse to drive this car!” I told him I felt the same about my first car, a ‘65 Mustang (also black), which I used to deliver pizzas for a little adventure during the summer before leaving for college. He laughed and revved the engine, and we enjoyed the ride to my car. It was one of those spontaneous connections you can’t create, but simply have to be open to when they happen.

“Be always kind to strangers, they might be angels in disguise”, as the adage goes. Colby was an angel who came to the rescue with his gift of preparedness (he keeps gas in his car at all times “just in case”). After partly filling my tank, he followed me for three miles to a gas station, aptly named Love’s. There, I saw a servicewoman filling up in her Army fatigues, and felt a rush of love for these fellow Americans who serve others, far from the spotlight of the media that amplifies the worst in humanity. In our brief shared moments, they radiated all the goodness that is missing from our daily news cycle.

Suddenly, the song “Life is a Highway” by Rascal Flatts came to mind, with its poignant lyrics like,

There was a distance between you and I, a misunderstanding once, but now we look it in the eye.”

To me, this neatly sums up the split happening in America today—a misunderstanding fueled by our failure to see each other as fellow travelers vs. strangers with ill intent. As I mulled over the parallels, I turned on the radio and, I kid you not, this very song was playing. An omen! The coincidence felt like a sign affirming all that had happened.

Many of us fear for the decline of the America of our youth, and we each have different ways of coping and voting based on our perceptions and priorities. Our stress is compounded by many pressures at once, both national and global—none of which has a simple fix, regardless of what the political rhetoric suggests. Yet, despite the drama on our screens, we live most of our lives at ground level with regular people, just trying to get by the best we can. Vilifying each other can’t be the answer.

We should expect politicians to continue jockeying for power and dividing us to help them maintain it. Meanwhile, we can carry on like pawns on their chessboard, unconsciously regarding those from “the wrong side” as adversaries. Or, we can consciously choose to see each other’s uniqueness, offer help, and experience the awe and joy of random acts of generosity and hospitality, as I stumbled into on this trip.

Granted, we need a miracle to solve our polarization problem, but developing this attitude can bring us peace and strength to endure it while we’re stuck here. Achieving this state of mind isn’t easy because it takes radical vulnerability—the kind our individualistic, on-demand culture tends to suppress. It’s an awareness that only comes in reaching the limits of self reliance and knowing our very survival depends on the faith that carries us toward the kindness of our fellow travelers.

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in”

—Matthew 25:35 (NIV)