The van wouldn’t start this afternoon. I turned the silver
key in the ignition, white lights flashed on the dash, orange dials spun in
half-arcs, and something under the hood said “click-click-click-click” and I
smelled smoke, or thought I did, and Micah yelled from the back seat, “I’m
getting out before we explode!”
“Wait!” I yelped, trying to prevent the super-hero leaps of
three scared boys into the middle of the street.
I opened the driver’s side door, walked round our Dodge
Caravan to see what I could see, and noticed the back right tire was flat too. Lovely! Tomorrow’s Friday and we’ve got a conference to go to this weekend!
I sighed, kicked the flat tire for good measure, then called
Jon and left a message—“the van’s dead and the back tire is flat.” Stuffing my
phone in my back pocket, I reached over and yanked hard on the passenger side
door, the one that’s supposed to open automatically, and announced to the three
wide-eyed boys huddled on the back seat, “Well, the van’s broken so we’ll just
have to go inside and wait till Dad can get it to Mickey’s.”
The three boys took the disappointment pretty well, given
they’d been hoping for an afternoon shooting hoops at the gym. We traipsed
inside in silence and hung up coats. I sighed again saying, “Man! This is
disappointing. I doubt we can get the van fixed before tomorrow, but that’s
life. I’m sure God has a reason for it.”
Micah plopped onto the living room floor, pulled off his
Reeboks, and said, “Wow, mom, what’s wrong with you?”
“What do you mean what’s wrong with me?”
“Well, usually when something doesn’t work, you know, like
your computer, you act like the Hulk.”
“How do I act like the Hulk?”
“You say ‘AHHHHHHH.”’
I had no words. I wasn’t sure if I should feel insulted that
my son just compared me to a green monster or humbled that he’d noticed my
less-than-holy attitudes when faced with less-than-ideal circumstances.
“Well, I’ve been praying a lot, Micah, that I would remember
that God is with me all the time, even when things don’t go right.”
“That’s good, Mom!” he said as he threw his shoes into the
closet and turned to shove Josiah and Isaiah to the carpet in a wrestling
maneuver.
As grunts and giggles swirled around me, I marveled at the reality of God with me, sanctifying this Mama She-Hulk, helping me trust that a broken van was part of the plan.
Emmanuel. God with
me, changing my heart, helping me see Him at work in and around me.
And this—the seeing—is
Amazing Grace.
