That is the saying on my cute floral license plate cover on my ride. It reads, “LET’S JUST GO.”
I kind of find the irony humorous, considering the type of driver I actually am. What would you call it—rigid, timid, unsure, probably going to linger a little too long at a yellow caution light because I don’t want to cut you off? Cautious? Defensive?
You know the one. The driver who counts to three after the light turns green. The one who waits years to turn left on yellow. Yup—that’s me. I’m the girl you’re probably road-raging at, yelling, “GO! JUST GO! Oh my gosh, GO ALREADY!”
And then you look down, read my adorable floral license plate cover that says LET’S JUST GO, and you eye-roll thinking, The nerve of this lady. She isn’t even going—so why is she announcing that we should?
True story. One day my daughter and I were leaving a store, sitting in a left-turn lane on yellow. The guy behind me was honking and motioning for me to go, but there was a steady stream of oncoming cars. Darting out just to get him off my bumper wasn’t worth endangering my life—or anyone else’s.
In my cute naïveté, I almost thought he was trying to tell me something was hanging out of my trunk. I was genuinely confused… until he sped up on my right, cut me off in the intersection, flipped me off, and darted in front of the oncoming traffic that had the right of way.
I was stunned by the nerve. The audacity. The impatience.
I sometimes think I should replace my license plate cover altogether. But then again—it doesn’t say “Let’s just go already!!!” People need to chill.
“Let’s just go.” Sometimes I want to scream that phrase at others in my life. Obviously, I wouldn’t swerve them, cut them off, flip them off, or jeopardize their safety in the process. It’s just that the phrase has purpose, even if it doesn’t always possess speed.
Maybe it’s a command—but not a rush.
When we’re in the car, everyone is in a hurry. But in life, when we just need to move forward, there isn’t always a fire under our feet or a road-rage driver in our rearview mirror.
Why do we tend to not just go? For me, it comes down to uncertainty—gauging distance, timing, depth, and not wanting to cause harm by moving too soon.
And if I want people to have patience and grace for my overly safe driving, I should learn to extend that same grace to friends who are cautious, hesitant, or simply not ready to put the pedal to the metal in their own season.
We should go wisely, not recklessly.
We should go when it’s safe—when we have peace.
We should go after seeking the Lord for His wisdom in the matter.
I love Proverbs 3:5–6:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths.”
So next time you feel the urge to yell, JUST GO, pause. Step back. Examine the situation. Is there truly a rush—or are you just impatient with someone else’s process?
Walking alongside others who are still in trials you’ve already finished can tempt you to rush them toward freedom. But I believe it’s in those long pauses that the Lord does His best work. After all, He says, “Be still and know that I am God.”
Now if only we could convince the road-raged guy behind us—five minutes late to his meeting—that maybe this pickle isn’t our fault after all.
Maybe ‘Let’s just go’ was never about speed at all—it was always about trust!
Leigh Leigh Speaks 