Am I Jesus? Or is Jesus me?

So I'm driving down the road around 9o'clock tonight when I see a pick up truck on the side of the road with it's hazard lights flashing, and a tire leaning up against the back end.
I drive on, but something in my head tells me that it's hard to change a tire in the dark and I didn't see any flashlights or anything.
Then, as I'm thinking how much I would hate to have someone I know change a tire in the dark I'm also thinking that I couldn't think of a single person that would say stopping would be a good idea for ME - a 27 yr old female.
About two more miles down the road I realize I won't feel good the rest of the night unless I turn around, so I hang a uey and go back to check things out.

Sure enough, I wasn't able to do much. They were in need of a jack and my jack wasn't heavy duty enough to lift their truck, but they'd called someone to bring a jack and so I went on my way.

But once again, the question had come up in my mind. When deciding what Jesus would do, am I suppose to be Jesus, or is Jesus suppose to be me?
I hate limitations, and that's generally what crops up when I say Jesus is me. Because then the answer to what He might do is always restricted to what the general public has deemed safe for a female to do.

I suppose, in a way I don't know or care. I'm happy to have survived the last months. Happy that the gripping pain has lost it's sharp edge, and the make-you-want-to-vomit panic has dulled.

My question stems from a simple hope to "get it right" and after the last few months that seems like something that might not necessarily happen. When you wander as far from the path as I am, you lose confidence in your ability to know True North.

In the long run it just doesn't matter though, not right now, right now, I want to make it through tomorrow.