Today is a great day to share a little story about faith and to illustrate how God works all things for the good of those who love him.
The story begins with a little thing called Truckzilla, my husband’s new ride:
Just so you know, my husband is 6’2″. That is one BIG truck. Hence its nickname: Truckzilla.
This morning I was in a rush to get to a doctor’s appointment due to some severe abdominal pain I’ve had the last few days. I wanted to cover all the bases before my hysterectomy. If it’s an ulcer, I want to get it healed. If it’s gallbladder or something else, I need to know that, too. If it’s endometriosis spread all up over my stomach organs, then they’ll zap it when I have the hysterectomy. But when the pain keeps me awake all night long, that’s a problem. Of course it’s Murphy’s Law that today I feel better. But I digress.
I ran out the garage door and pushed the opener button. Lately a ghost has been living in the garage door opening system. Sometimes it starts to go up but then something catches, and the motor stops when the door is only about six inches off the ground. Usually starting it up again works, but today it took five — count ’em — five tries. I hopped into my car that’s barely 18 months old, engaged the push-button starter, and apparently the ghost in the garage door opener flew into the engine of my car because the “check engine” light blinked furiously at me and the car itself thundered. The engine revved up and down as if I was stomping on and off the gas, shaking the car and me in it.
This meant I had to…gulp…drive Truckzilla to the doctor’s office.
Even though the seat moves up clear to the steering wheel, my feet dangle. Yes, I’m only five feet tall. The Truckzilla makers didn’t count on a whisp of a woman like me driving a 4×4 through the mean city streets to the doctor. But as long as all I had to do was go forward, forward we went. Truckzilla and I became friends today. I learned he needs a bit more gas to get going. He learned I need to practically sit on the steering wheel to reach the gas pedal. Together we made it to the office within the fifteen-minute-late window of time.
Now, when my husband parks Truckzilla in a parking lot, he usually backs in the parking space to avoid having to back out when leaving. It crossed my mind when I saw all the empty parking spots that I should probably back in, too, but since I was late already, I just parked normally and talked to God instead.
Lord, you know I am freaked out already about backing this behemoth out of a parking spot. I’m just going to trust You to arrange it so I can just back straight up when it’s time to leave.
See, the Lord knows about me and backing up. The first day I drove my car to high school, I turned the wheel too sharp and did $250 damage to a classmate’s bright yellow Mustang. Ever since then, I’ve been jittery about my ability to judge distances when backing out of parking spaces. God knows this quirk about me, so I’m sure He was not surprised by my plea. Then I hurried into the office and didn’t think about the parking space again.
Two hours and five vials of blood later, I carefully made my way across the parking lot to get to Truckzilla before passing out. I didn’t pass out. I was freaked out because just a few weeks ago my daughter nearly passed out after giving blood, and I did feel a bit lightheaded, which made me panic, which made me want to get to the safety of the truck so that if I passed out I’d do it in the cab where I wouldn’t embarrass myself. (such is the strangeness of my mind)
And then I went bonkers to discover that ALL the parking places were completely full, and there were two other Truckzillas parked next to me, each of them just as wide bodied as mine. At that point I remembered my prayer. I took a deep breath, eased into Reverse, and executed Back Out Try Numero Uno. Yes, there is a nifty back-up camera, but the camera doesn’t help me see whether I’m about the hit the Truckzilla next to me…just the one behind me. So, I pulled back into Drive, straightened up, and put Truckzilla back into Reverse for Back Out Try Numero Dos. At this point, I won’t lie to you, my eyes filled with tears. I envisioned myself backing in and out for thirty minutes before finally getting Truckzilla clear of the other cars. The floodgates opened, and I sat there, disgusted with myself and my depth perception, and I hit Dial on my phone to ask my honey to drive up and rescue me. I planned to sit there until he got there or until someone behind me backed out.
Lord, I know you’re going to get me out of here somehow. I’m tired and lightheaded, and I’m filled with adrenaline from getting my blood taken and from having to figure out how to maneuver Truckzilla.
As soon as I prayed, I spied lights flashing on the car DIRECTLY behind Truckzilla. The woman and her daughter got in, backed out, and pulled away. I did a happy dance right there through my tears and thanked God for being so faithful even in the little, silly, inconsequential things. I’m happy to report that Truckzilla backed straight up with no hitches, and we made it home just fine.
You see, a situation like that would not have even phased my husband. It probably wouldn’t have bothered many of you, either. But it bothered me, and that mattered to God. I don’t know how he did it. That office was packed to the gills with sick people coughing all over me and half the population of Dallas getting flu shots. What are the odds of those people directly behind me getting out of there exactly when I needed them to? These kinds of things have happened to me too many times to just pass them off as chance or luck or coincidence. The God of the Universe is REAL. He is Sovereign and can handle everything we place at his feet….even parking spaces.