Writer. Mom. Daydreamer. Dog's Best Friend.
“My check engine light came on last night,” I told my sister with deep, deep sadness in my voice.
“Again!” she exclaimed. “What is up with that truck of yours?”
“I know,” I sighed. “My love for my truck is dysfunctional.”
She laughed at me as I made my case.
“I think I would be more logical if I hadn’t had to drive that horrible green minivan for so long. The AC didn’t work for years! Part of the time the windows wouldn’t even roll down!”
And so when I saw that used SUV, I fell hard. I have never gotten over it.
I love my truck. I regularly pat it tenderly on the hood and beg it to play nice. I warn it that my husband doesn’t love it like I do and he keeps threatening to ditch it for something less expensive to maintain.
It doesn’t listen to me. It just cruelly sends me whimpering back to the mechanic for the latest diagnosis. So when the light popped on this time, I was a little tempted to feel sorry for myself. Then strains of life-giving scripture floated back to me across all the negativity
And so, I gave thanks…
“Thank You that I have a check engine light so I know what is coming. I am thankful I won’t get stuck on the side of the road.”
“Thank You that you have provided every other time my truck needed a repair.”
“Thank You that my truck has AC, heat, and all the windows roll down.”
“Thank You that MY TRUCK IS NOT A GREEN MINIVAN!”
“Thank You that it is just a broken truck. It isn’t a devastating doctor’s report.”
“Thank You that no matter what happens here, it is all temporal. The day will come when I will step into the eternal when I will be with You forever. There will be no more broken trucks, mounting bills, sickness, pain, tears or death. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”
Just like that, my perspective shifted. Everything seemed brighter, a bit more manageable.
In everything, everything, give thanks…