With the “go home” pandemic and “stay home” quarantine, we totaled 9 people in our home. There was a lot of sharing going on, from family games and dinners to more tightly felt areas, like limited closet space. But with two children recently moving into their own rental and some additional shifting of furniture and bedrooms, there is promise of garage floor space once again.
One thing that did not expand, however, was our fleet of cars.
Mom has a mini-van to haul kids and stuff.
Dad has a mini-van to haul kids and stuff.
Kids have a 1994 Toyota pickup to share amongst themselves.
(You read that right…. 1994).
This little red vehicle might be as small as a pony, but it is a reliable workhorse! The heater blasts warmth easily (although the amount needed to fill the tiny cab is admittedly not that much). If it gets too warm, just crank the window down. While the speedometer does not properly function, you can simply use your phone’s GPS to regulate your rate of speed. And, I consider it a great skill that my kids know how to drive a stick shift. (Even better, there is no way to text and drive simultaneously!) Another plus? The pickup is VINTAGE!
The sharing of Little Red came to an end Saturday when my daughter purchased her very first car. She had been saving for a very long time, scouting and inquiring and watching for a good opportunity. There were many things to consider, of course. She works two jobs, pays her own college tuition, and travels out of state, so the car she landed on needed to be affordable and reliable.
And Saturday, she purchased it: a small sedan previously owned by a local couple. They loved the car, kept scheduled maintenance records, and were happy to see it go to an appreciative buyer. Dad did some research on the model, and her mechanically minded brother-in-law gave a thumbs up. Our daughter timidly handed over a stack of bills in the thousands, and dad wrote a $200 check for the negotiated difference. Proudly driving her shiny car into our driveway, she announced she was taking me for a spin!
But the joy didn’t last long. Late Tuesday night she arrived home from work in tears; the car was making a funny sound and not accelerating properly. Googling symptoms was not reassuring. Although I kept my initial reaction from my daughter, it was definitely a defensive and protective one: we had been cheated! “Didn’t that couple have children? How could they sell an unsafe car to a kid??? Don’t they care about a child who is struggling to pay her own way? She works hard! She’s not an entitled princess who gets everything handed to her, for Pete's sake! How could they do this to her? To us??? Aren’t there people out there with a moral compass? We can’t afford this!”
Dad made arrangements for the car to be checked out the next day, but to make matters worse, the poor girl got stranded on a country road enroute to the mechanic’s shop. She felt defeated. We all felt lousy. And after getting safely home, we gathered on the couch to figure things out. I found myself reassuring my daughter that it’s just a car, that we would help with affordable repairs, that we could navigate this situation… gosh darn it, we can still share cars! The details seemed little, but the big lesson seemed to be about Trust. What is God asking us to do on this bumpy path? He will show us how to gather the disappointments and move forward on the road. He promises to bring about good from even the most difficult of situations. God, who is all Good, can be trusted.
Listening to my very own words, I found my own heart softening toward a darker reality: my judgment of the unsuspecting sellers. I now clearly saw my lack of charity toward people I have never even met, and I felt terrible. How could I be so blind? God was guiding me to see my own bumpiness. Cars are broken, people are broken, I am broken, and some of these can even be redeemed. We just can’t lose sight of our destination…. Even if it has to be while riding in a vintage pickup.
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