Things That Go Bump in the Night

I was minding my own business under an orange-colored sky this past Friday night when flash, bam, alakazam, I got rear-ended in traffic while driving to improv.

Doesn't look so bad, you say? Fortunately, I (meaning, my car, Muggsy) was pretty lucky to have only a dented bumper and a broken taillight. As for me, meaning myself (injuries to me), I suffered some whiplash, and I have endured, not to be too cliché, a real pain in the neck for the last few days. So, it's off to the chiropractor for me tomorrow to have some work done, and then over to the paint and body shop to have some work done on Muggsy.

Another thing that was very fortunate was a cop was driving right behind the driver who ran into me, so he witnessed the whole thing and cited the other driver.

It was kinda nice to have a little fuss made about me, albeit for a few minutes. I was amazed at how quickly both paramedics (the police officer assured me it was important to have them come and check me out to make sure I didn't have a concussion or something else) and a fire truck arrived within just a few short minutes. The EMTs took my blood pressure and pulse, and everything checked out fine, so all emergency personnel were on their within just another few short minutes.

When all is said and done, I'm rather lucky and am counting my blessings that things weren't any worse than that.

Issued Warnings

Twenty-three years, seven months, and eight days.

According to my estimation, that's how long I had been driving before being pulled over for the first time ever by a Bountiful City policeman Sunday while on the way to church.

My crime? I wasn't wearing my seatbelt.

I saw the lights flash in my rearview mirror, realized I had failed to buckle up in my rush to get where I was going early (seats in the chapel are becoming harder and harder to come by as the Island of Misfit Toys expands—now with nearly 600 members!), and I instantly knew that I was toast.

Well, it was a good run while it lasted.

Fortunately, the officer—Officer Plowman! (no relation)—was very kind and let me go with just a warning. My record of driving without a moving violation remains intact. Along with the warning, he gave me a very educational pamphlet with some harrowing data.

"If you or anyone in your vehicle aren't properly restrained," it read, "you can be issued a $45 citation."

The possibility of a fine sure gets your attention. But how about these statistics, which were also included:

"During the last five years, nearly half of fatalities on Utah's roads were unbuckled."
"Three out of four people ejected from the car in an accident perish."
"When the driver is belted, 87% of children also ride with a seatbelt. Be an example and buckle up."

Thank goodness for the warning. "It won't happen again, Officer," I assured him.

Then, as I went on my way and drove the rest of the distance to church, the thought that occurred to me was this: It's good to have warnings given, or else far-worse consequences are in store for ignoring the law or repeated violations. The consequences could be dire, indeed. My not wearing a seatbelt doesn't affect only me; it could be dangerous to others, as well.

Consider an oft-ignored or ridiculed warning such as this:


"We warn that individuals who violate covenants of chastity, who abuse spouse or offspring, or who fail to fulfill family responsibilities will one day stand accountable before God. Further, we warn that the disintegration of the family will bring upon individuals, communities, and nations the calamities foretold by ancient and modern prophets."

What a blessing it is to have prophets, seers, and revelators who can see the storms, both ongoing and forthcoming, and who warn us accordingly. They do so not to limit our choices or to have power or control over us but, because they both know that ultimate happiness is impossible through sin (see Alma 41:10) and they can see what is coming, they do so out of love and genuine, Christlike concern for all of God's children.

To ignore such a warning—well, the consequences could be dire, indeed.