There it Goes Again!

            Oh, that pesky light! Why did it have to go on Monday morning as I cruised to work? Why, when the main event of the day was my presentation at staff meeting in less than two hours? Already nervous, I didn’t need one more nerve-racking event for the day.

            My poor 2002 Taurus, with 174,000 miles, has been in the shop repeatedly for that little light. This and that have been repaired, and it was supposed to be fixed. Hmmm… Could I be right? Lately I’ve wondered if my car is more a flirty bovine who likes to visit our mechanics rather than a fierce bull! Whatever the explanation, I was not amused.

            When or why it started, I don’t know, but for as long as I can remember, I’ve gotten tremendously uptight when my car isn’t working. Loss of control? You bet! Fear of being stranded, fear of repair bills, fear of having to buy another vehicle. The operative word is fear.

            That’s why my cars break down—fear.

           

           

           When I pick up my car from the shop, the paperwork doesn’t tell me that the problem with my Taurus was fear. It’s a list of parts, deductions for all the coupons I handed over, and the bottom line that will hit my budget. So why do I know the reason my car breaks is fear?

            How do you get over anything in your life? You face it. The only way God can teach me to trust him with my car is if the car breaks and I have the opportunity to see how He takes care of my needs.  So this car breaks, and others I’ve had in the past broke, too, all to teach me how well God can take care of me, if I will only let Him. Now, if you’re mechanically inclined, you may remind me that there is a time to trade cars, and I agree.  Last Monday was not that day, however. Last Monday was a day for faith over fear.

            The light wasn’t flashing; it only illuminated the corner of the dash. So I went to work, determined that that light was less important than the speech—a major change from years past.  When I walked into the repair shop, Jonathan called me by name (when you have old cars, mechanics do this) and jotted down my problem. I left in peace—another alteration in my behavior.  I scarcely had a thought about the problem during the next day, until Jason called with a report.

They found the problem. (He didn’t mention fear.) It was ready to pick up. No charge for the diagnostic, the test, the repair.

            Really?

            Then I think God smiled. I know I did.        

Something will happen again with my old Taurus; I know it.  God keeps running a diagnostic on me to check for fear. He wants me to live fear-free. I do, too.  Better than hearing “no charge” was knowing the ground I’d covered in my journey of faith. I have a long way to go. But I’m counting on God to teach me, even through my old car.