Sandbox Rules

The house where I grew up had a very big yard and I had a great sandbox as a kid. It was huge, almost 20 feet on each side, although one side had a random shape that affectively cut off part of one corner; so it wasn't a full 400 square feet of sand. Still, there was plenty of room for imagination. I spent a lot of time in that sandbox, building roads and playing with cars, and one of my best memories was playing with a rock that was about the size of your palm. It was oblong, very smooth, flat on the bottom, and almost completely flat on top; except for a bump that was offset from the center. I imagined it to be a super-secret car like Batman might have kept hidden in the Bat Cave; only to be brought out in case of a serious emergency. I loved that rock!

This morning on my way to work as I on-ramped onto the freeway in my squarish not so flat car, I suddenly remembered something that happened in my sandbox. My next door neighbor and I were playing cars, as usual, and we had built roads and a couple of small towns. Naturally with police cars, fire trucks, dump trucks, and trips to town, there was far more to do than the two of us could manage at once. Like kids are supposed to do we took turns deciding what the cars and trucks were doing at any given moment, stopping at the stop signs and going about daily life in the sandbox. From what I remember it was serious stuff. Anyway, suddenly my friend decided to cut across the "open country" with his car, not following the roads we had so carefully laid out in the sand. I was shocked and upset, and I remember trying to get him to go around as he was supposed to. He didn't want to, of course, and eventually I "let it go", ignoring his rude sandbox etiquette and accepting his failure to comply with the rules.

I realized this morning that I've always been this way about the behavior of others. Example: As I stood patiently waiting for the walk sign at the corner near where I work, I watched as others marched into the cross walk ahead of me without waiting. They aren't following the rules either. Why is it that I have this compulsion to "follow the rules"? Why is it that I don't complain about the things that typically upset other people? Why do I just accept rude people for who they are, without saying anything? I don't really know why I'm like this, and I'll admit I don't intend to change my behavior (at least not right away). What's really interesting is to realize that I've behaved this way since I was a kid playing in my sandbox. So now the question is ... where is God leading me with this insight into who I am?