The Screaming Driver (Okay, Maybe Just Yelling…)

Welcome to my Confessions of a fumbling Christian series. There’s all sides to me here—the deep, the raw, the real. But there are also plenty of lessons this Christian woman still needs to learn. It’s not perfect here, just honest. Some are what I’m working on, others are things I’ve once done. I’m not proud of, but also not afraid to admit. Some… are even a little funny. So let’s dive into this week’s confession!

I’m a lose my temper driver. Yeah, I still do this. I am a little, let’s say agitated, when I sit behind the wheel some days.

Here’s the deal… I’m the calm mama and wife. I don’t yell often, I don’t lose my temper easily. I can handle a lot without breaking a sweat. But put me behind the wheel of a car? Suddenly, I’m a whole different person.

No worship music or morning prayer can keep me from reacting when someone cuts me off, doesn’t use their blinker, overtakes on dangerous bends or drives well under the speed limit like they’ve got nowhere to be. I’m gripping the wheel, muttering under my breath, rolling my eyes so hard they might get stuck. And let’s not even talk about traffic jams—patience? Never heard of her.

I honestly think it’s because I don’t have control. I can’t guide, correct, or drive for other people, and it’s maddening. I can be the best driver in the world, but that won’t stop someone else from making a mistake or pulling a move that makes my blood pressure spike. And that lack of control? Oof. It gets to me.

Sometimes, I even catch myself muttering out loud. Sometimes, it’s a little louder.

“Who are you? Where did you get your license? From a cereal box?”

“Oh, you’re just gonna cut me off like that? That’s fine. Totally fine.”

And sometimes, I even argue with myself. “Girl, you need to calm down. It’s not that deep.”

And even more, I’m apologising to God. “Lord, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Only… I’m pretty sure I did. But still, I shouldn’t have said that about a stranger.”

But in the moment? It feels that deep. It feels personal, like that person who just merged without looking woke up this morning with the sole mission of ruining my day. It’s ridiculous, I know. And yet, there I am, gripping the steering wheel like my frustration alone will magically clear the road ahead.

And yeah, I shout with my windows up, I make hand gestures (not the bad ones, don’t worry), I beep my horn on occasion to make my point. Because obviously, if I honk a warning, the driver ahead of me will suddenly realize their mistakes, repent, and become the best driver in the world. Right?

It’s funny, isn’t it? How we can have so much patience in one area of life and absolutely none in another? I can handle chaos at home, unexpected life stress, and even people who test my limits. But when I’m driving, my patience evaporates. And I know I’m not alone in this.

I know people who lose it over being late to something, others over dishes being left in the living room, or dirty clothes on the bathroom floor… we all have something that ticks us off and reveals the less than perfect side to our regular state of calm.

This confession really got me thinking about my patience. I can sit in a waiting season of life and trust God’s timing, but I can’t sit in traffic without having an internal meltdown? That’s humbling.

I’m seriously trying to work on this. I promise. It’s not an every day thing anymore, it’s more like a once, maybe twice a week thing with a little logic and self regulation now making its way in. So progress…

“Better a patient person than a warrior, one with self-control than one who takes a city.” — Proverbs 16:32

So, let’s be real—what’s your driving practice like? Are you cool as a cucumber or yelling at the GPS, the car in front or the traffic lights that seem to be stuck on red like me? What stretches your patience?

Love, Sarah x.

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