Day 59 -- "Whew. We made it."
Do you ever get into your can and begin to go your merry way only to suddenly look at your gas gauge and remember that you don't have ANY gas?
Of course you don't. You are a responsible, mature adult. Who has a gas gauge. And a little reminder light thingy.
I also have a gas gauge, and a reminder light as well. But I have run out of gas or have cut it dangerously close more times than I care to remember.
My first close-call was back in high school driving the Volkswagen. Okay, to be fair, the VW had no reminder light, and the fuel gauge was backwards. But I vividly remember coasting down a hill into the gas station parking lot, arriving with a smooth, engine-less stop at pump #6. I had exactly one 5 dollar bill to put into the tank (which was accessed by pulling on a chain underneath the front driver's side of the car), but when I was 16 this was enough to get a significant amount of gas in my car.
There was the time when I was 8 months pregnant and driving in the green S-10 pickup. I was on the way to a friend's house from Northwest High School where I was teaching. I just wasn't paying attention and had to pull off of the side of M-50 when the truck simply stopped going. My heart sank when I looked at the gas gauge. I just hadn't noticed that I was that low on gas. There wasn't a gas station for miles, so I walked the two-plus miles to my friends' house. On the bitterly cold, blustery November day, at 8 months pregnant, not one person stopped to help me.
And today...I KNEW that I was low on gas yesterday when I came home, but forgot this morning until I was a ways down Erie Road and noticed what I always dread to see -- that evil little orange gas pump lit up on my dashboard. I gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles all the way down Erie Road, praying, "Lord, please help me to at least get the kids to daycare". I couldn't imagine what I would do if I ran out of gas on this dark, back road at 6:30 in the morning with three sleepy kids in the back.
I turned onto Parma Road -- "God, please get us there."
I turned onto King Road -- "Lord, make this gas last. Please get us there safely."
Finally onto Chapel Road -- "Thank you, Lord for getting us this far. Please help us to keep going."
We pulled into the parking lot at daycare with Dharia, Breslin, and I all shouting in loud voices, "Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus!" They both thought it was hilarious, but in the midst of their giggling and yelling, I felt a wave of relief run over me.
Thank God for allowing me to say the rest of the day, "Whew. We made it."
Lord, thank you for being there with us today and having your protective hands around us. Thank you for getting us to our destination safely. Thank you for compensating for my lack of thought and planning on so many occasions. Your blessings know no bounds in my life Lord. I am so grateful for all that you have given me, Lord, and continue to be amazed at how you pour more out each and every day. Thank you. In your name I pray, Amen.
Of course you don't. You are a responsible, mature adult. Who has a gas gauge. And a little reminder light thingy.
I also have a gas gauge, and a reminder light as well. But I have run out of gas or have cut it dangerously close more times than I care to remember.
My first close-call was back in high school driving the Volkswagen. Okay, to be fair, the VW had no reminder light, and the fuel gauge was backwards. But I vividly remember coasting down a hill into the gas station parking lot, arriving with a smooth, engine-less stop at pump #6. I had exactly one 5 dollar bill to put into the tank (which was accessed by pulling on a chain underneath the front driver's side of the car), but when I was 16 this was enough to get a significant amount of gas in my car.
There was the time when I was 8 months pregnant and driving in the green S-10 pickup. I was on the way to a friend's house from Northwest High School where I was teaching. I just wasn't paying attention and had to pull off of the side of M-50 when the truck simply stopped going. My heart sank when I looked at the gas gauge. I just hadn't noticed that I was that low on gas. There wasn't a gas station for miles, so I walked the two-plus miles to my friends' house. On the bitterly cold, blustery November day, at 8 months pregnant, not one person stopped to help me.
And today...I KNEW that I was low on gas yesterday when I came home, but forgot this morning until I was a ways down Erie Road and noticed what I always dread to see -- that evil little orange gas pump lit up on my dashboard. I gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles all the way down Erie Road, praying, "Lord, please help me to at least get the kids to daycare". I couldn't imagine what I would do if I ran out of gas on this dark, back road at 6:30 in the morning with three sleepy kids in the back.
I turned onto Parma Road -- "God, please get us there."
I turned onto King Road -- "Lord, make this gas last. Please get us there safely."
Finally onto Chapel Road -- "Thank you, Lord for getting us this far. Please help us to keep going."
We pulled into the parking lot at daycare with Dharia, Breslin, and I all shouting in loud voices, "Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus!" They both thought it was hilarious, but in the midst of their giggling and yelling, I felt a wave of relief run over me.
Thank God for allowing me to say the rest of the day, "Whew. We made it."
Lord, thank you for being there with us today and having your protective hands around us. Thank you for getting us to our destination safely. Thank you for compensating for my lack of thought and planning on so many occasions. Your blessings know no bounds in my life Lord. I am so grateful for all that you have given me, Lord, and continue to be amazed at how you pour more out each and every day. Thank you. In your name I pray, Amen.
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