Early this morning, we were on the way to an appointment at my niece's beauty salon for my hubby to get his shabby hair cut. As I told Stephanie, he was beginning to look like one of the Beatles... a very old one at that. :)
As we were driving on the By Pass, I heard a strange sound and then a thump... thump... thump. The tire that was recently patched had blown. Thankfully, I safely made my way quickly through traffic and I was able to pull off on a side street. How that happened was, in itself, a miracle!
While we had a spare tire, we had no tire jack as hubby had not been able to get to a junk yard to find one to replace the original that had broken. (Old Faithful is THAT old!) Did I mention the wind chill was about eleven degrees and that our other car is still at the transmission shop? Sigh...
I called my sister who called my niece to let her know what had happened. I called Christopher to inform him of of our situation and then my daughter, who was getting ready for her Tuesday Women's Bible Study... just for her to pray and tell me everything would be alright. She's good at that.
To make a very long story short, we were rescued by our pastor and one of the very nice men from our church. We go to a very good church. My health (or lack of it at times) keeps me from being as active as I'd like to be, far from what it was like with other churches I attended where I was there numerous times a week. Not to mention being on paid staff of two churches and a volunteer staff member of the Presbyterian church where I was married.
Thankfully, they know our limitations and they have been willing to help us through so many times of adversity through the years. Good people.
Because our pastor and and our other guardian angel showed up and helped us (as if neither of them were not already busy!), we were able to get my husband his much needed haircut (my niece made room for him even though he was late) and finish a couple of other important errands before arriving back to the warmth of home. Christopher had the car in plenty of time to drive to his afternoon classes.
All this to say... sometimes it seems like God is just watching to see how I'm going to react to something. I felt it this time, especially as I was cold and shivering and frustrated at the car situation.
I took a little walk to warm up and found myself looking at the tiny houses in this part of town. Some were very shabby and run down while others had been painted and were quite charming.
How different was the look of the pretty houses as opposed to those with chipped paint, broken toys in the yard, and the general feeling of neglect. I'm certain they had the same floor plan with limited space inside and out. What was the difference in them? Most likely the attitude of the people that lived inside.
I'm learning to keep the right attitude. When I called Christopher to let him know we were rescued, I asked him to take the "bowl with the plate on top of it and a jar of jelly on the plate" out of the refrigerator and put it on the kitchen counter for me.
When I arrived home, I rolled out the dough that was inside. I'd made it in the bread machine the night before and let it rise in the frig overnight. It was transformed into one pan of cinnamon rolls and another of pecan rolls (thankfully, I had purchased chopped pecans while I still had the funds to stock the freezer). They have been rising while I have been typing away and I just popped them in the oven.
Choosing attitudes... instead of getting cranky and crabby... I choose to bake, or make a stew, or declutter the house. I choose to create rather than tear down, to give instead of destroy, to thank God for what I have instead of complaining about what I don't.
I'll share a little more later but for now... warm cinnamon rolls and hot coffee await.
Picture: Home Sweet Home; allpictures.com