I admit I’m known to somewhat ignore the light – the gas light, that is. It’s there for a very good reason, but often times I just fail to pay attention. I call it living on the edge. How low can I really go? With a 16-gallon tank, there have been times when I filled up my car with more than 15 gallons. Pretty low!

I don’t think that I ever go through a tank of gas without the light coming on. This drives my husband nuts. He rarely drives my car, but there are times when he gets in and has an instant panic attack.

“The light is on,” he says.

“Relax, honey, haven’t you ever seen the light?” I ask. To my surprise, he tells me that he never lets it get that low.

“Well then, you’re just not living on the edge,” I tell him.

I know about the edge. You see, in all these years, I never had actually run out of gas. That is until last week – and it happened right in my neighborhood. Driving down Ocean Ave at Higgins Beach, I approached the stop sign, and the car stalled out. I saw the light. All of them! Everything shut down. I was unable to turn the wheel or apply the brake – and I was heading right for the ocean! I pulled the emergency brake, and there I hung on the ocean edge, with the rear of my car dead center of the major beach intersection.

As luck would have it, neighbor Bob was right there. I ran up to him with arms waving in all directions, interrupting the conversation he was having with another neighbor. He dropped everything, suspecting a crisis at hand. With his puzzled and concerned look, all he could say was, “What?” Thinking, perhaps, that someone had died, he was relieved to discover that it was only my car. The only real crisis was that I was late to a meeting. So what else is new?

Summer is definitely over. As the school season begins, it seems that activities take a few weeks to get started. All the forms come home in bags and folders. It’s time to sign kids up and pay for this, that and the other thing. By the third week of September, the school year is in full swing.

Each year, it’s the same. A new school year starts with great intentions. It’s back to being busy, busy, busy. Feeling pressured, torn, overwhelmed and on edge, I wonder: Am I doing what’s best for my kids? What are the things that really matter? The beckoning to fill up your plate with every activity known to man leaves me asking: To what end? Where are we going with all of this?

I feel like I’m running on empty, doing things, which on the grand scale, don’t really matter. The thought of cutting some of this stuff out is counter to our societal norm. We all buy in. Yet, individually, many question.

Our culture is obsessive. We engage our kids in every sport with endless practices and game schedules that alter every schedule in the book. Our world revolves around them. All the while, adults have no time to exercise, no time to prepare meals. We opt for the quick fix of fast foods, caffeine, stress and pressure to get it all done. We chalk it up saying, “That’s life.”

Every now and then, the spiritual light goes on, challenging us to weigh in. Which will it be: Soccer on Sunday or church? Why is it that we think nothing of sitting on the sports field for four hours, but the thought of a little time in the pew will just about kill us.

Actually, a little time in the pew might just send us over the top. It gives us a chance to rise above it all and say, “Enough. Everything in moderation.”

I’m convinced of one thing. God hasn’t put us on this earth to be obsessive sports fanatics at the expense of all else. He put us here to love one another, to be good neighbors – to fill our tanks when we’re running on empty – so that we can get back on the road along the path of life doing what matters most. Thanks to my neighbor, I’ve seen the light – at least for the moment!