We love our neighborhood.  For a lot of reasons.

Older homes- that don’t all look the same.


Big trees.  Great location.  Neighbors who wave each time you pass.

It was idyllic.

Until a month ago, when the local police dept. put a mobile unit on our street that measured our speed against the posted limit of 25mph


Of course, they chose to station this telltale device at the bottom of a hill to make sure they captured us at maximum velocity.

What did we learn from the digital readout?  It seemed nearly impossible to hold it under 30mph- even with the brakes applied.

Until one afternoon when they placed a cop at the bottom of the hill.

Suddenly, 25mph seemed remarkably reasonable.

I used to bemoan our posted speed limit.  Now, I’ve come to appreciate the duece-nickel restriction.

Even though the public defenders have disappeared, I still want to go 25mph.

Not simply to obey the law or avoid the ticket.

But because I want to learn to slow down.

I don’t want to rush out to my day.  Instead, I ease in as my car crawls in 2nd gear.

I notice the leaves and the birds.  Talk with God about what lies ahead.

In the late afternoon I don’t want to rush home into my time with my family either.  Dragging the workday- and the list of things I didn’t get finished- with me.

Driving slowly lets my mind and body wind down as my tachometer does the same.

So, even though I never expected to say this: Thanks Town of Cary Police Department for the restrictions.

And the unexpected peace they’re allowing me to discover.