Angels Among Us

I don't believe in coincidences.  Everything happens exactly as God plans.  It can be surprising... it can be awesome... it is just as it should be.

I also consider myself pretty calm and collected under pressure.  Really, I think of it as one of my talents.  My pants could be on fire, but I'm not going to go running in the yard, screaming, spinning in a circle.  I will stop, drop and roll... and then get up and keep making dinner.

A couple days ago, both of these personal beliefs came into play, and were challenged, in a single situation.

I was on my way to work, going with the flow of heavy, commuter traffic, on a two-lane highway, about 20 minutes from home and about halfway to my workplace.  On a straight, flat stretch of road, I stopped for a stoplight, but, when the light turned green and the cars in front of me moved, I could not go.  The car stopped-- dead-- in the middle of a busy highway.

It was already a rough morning.  I was struggling with the "work-life balance" (put in quotation marks because there is no such thing-- challenge me if you want, but I know the truth: it's everything-everything all the time and it's exhausting and nearly impossible to do it all.)  There were a lot of things going on-- in my mind and on the calendar-- and I was feeling overwhelmed.  I was actually on the phone with my husband, having a less-than-lovely conversation about all of this, when the car died.

My car is not fancy, but it is properly maintained and only five years old.  It should run.  I couldn't get it to start again and I out and out PANICKED.  I put on the flashers, put down the window to wave around other cars, and screamed into the Bluetooth speaker: "MY CAR WON'T GO!  WHAT SHOULD I DO?!"  I told Todd where the car was stopped and said I had to disconnect; we agreed he would call roadside assistance for a tow truck and start driving my way.  (He was already at work by that time, some distance across the metro area.)  Cars were zooming by my stopped van on both sides, with drivers honking horns and flipping birds.  I knew I would have to push the car off the highway, but I didn't think I could do it myself... so I figured I should call the police-- just to tell them, maybe to get some more muscle power at my location.  I took a deep breath and blinked back tears and looked up one more time.

There, on the shoulder of the highway, was my friend.  She is a kind and gentle woman I have known for many years, though never well.  We first met when our husbands worked together many years ago; we lived in the same, small town (where my car broke down) and the men commuted to work together.  Later, we were having our first daughters as they were adopting theirs.  Then, we moved to the next town, and Todd got a different job, and we lost touch for a number of years.  I knew of them, and would occasionally run into my friend at a store or a restaurant, but we did not connect again until the couple joined the CrossFit gym where I go.  I neglected to mention that during the not-much-contact years my friend went to seminary and became a pastor.

She yelled out her window, "Can I help you?"  And I said, "YES!"  She was already in workout clothes, and sprinted across the highway.  I told her the car quit and I guessed we would have to push it, and I asked her which direction we should go.  She pointed to the gas station across the next intersection, and told me to stand in the driver's door so I could push and steer.  Then, we just went.  Another man had stopped by that time and was pushing with my friend.  A second man in a construction vehicle followed behind to make sure no one hit us.  We got through the intersection and around the corner and brought the van to rest on the shoulder of the side street.

My friend asked if I was OK... asked if she could take me anywhere, bring me anything, sit with me.  I shook my head and I think she could tell I was about to lose it.  I assured her Todd was on the way and I would have to wait for the tow truck, anyway-- after I called work to let them know I was going to be very late.

I eventually got to work, a couple hours after I was due.  I was thinking all the time how grateful I was for my friend, and how I needed to thank her.  Before I could fire off a text to her, she sent one to me-- making sure I was OK and offering a little prayer that my day was getting better.  The day was a disaster... and it turns out the car had catastrophic engine failure-- a repair that is going to cost thousands of dollars and take a couple weeks to fix.  But the day was better, because of her. 

My day was better-- because of her.

Parenting Lows and Highs for the Weekend

LOW
I washed a load of candy wrappers.


HIGH
I overheard the 10-year-old, while assembling a BLT, say to the bacon, "Gentlemen, gentlemen, come now-- we can all get along!"