Ready for another everyday miracle? As you know, I call them grace notes. I never know if you, my BBFFs (Blessed Blog Friends Forever) really want to hear these or if I’m boring you to tears by constantly sharing them. Give me a little feedback on that, will ya?
So last week, I ran outside and jumped into Spouse’s car (he had mine at the shop) to take grandson Blaine to his tennis clinic (in his world, a super important weekly event). I had to pick him up by 4 pm in order to have him at the court on time. It was 3:55.
Got in, adjusted seat, turned key in ignition. No response.
Pumped the gas a bit (Spouse’s car is old school and, well, just plain old). Tried the key again. Nothing.
Broke out in a sweat. Kept trying to crank the ding-dang thing but worried about flooding it. No good. Crickets.
Mike next door (seventysomething and on constant O2) was watching my battle from his lawn chair in the shade. At 4:05, when I started moaning in a low wail, he wandered over with oxygen tank in tow to try and help. He couldn’t. Because the stupid thing wouldn’t turn over. No matter what we did. And boy was it hot. 90 degrees is not unusual for central Florida in April.
So I shooed Mike back inside to his air conditioner and I fled into my kitchen to regroup. It was then 4:20 pm. Blaine was going to be sooo disappointed. I felt terrible. Then the sign above my kitchen table caught my eye: Count Your Blessings. Yeesh.
At that moment, my ears tuned into the song on the radio station that was playing throughout my house. It was Toby Mac’s “Help is on the Way” and the timely lyrics registered in my brain: “I’ve seen my share of troubles, but the Lord ain’t failed me yet. I’m holding on to the promise, y’all, He’s rolling up His sleeves again.”
I went back to the driveway and laid hands on the hood of that stubborn car and prayed for an angel with grease under his fingernails.
At that moment, Blaine’s mom randomly texted to remind me that his tennis lesson was at 6 pm that day, not 4 pm as usual. I shouted HALLELUJAH!! right there in my cul-de-sac. I had more time! Surely the Lord was working on a solution to my problem.
Mike appeared at his door again, this time waving his car keys in the air and motioning for me to come take his car. Awww. So nice.
I looked down at my own car keys and suddenly realized that they weren’t my regular set of keys to Spouse’s car. They were the spare set. The set that only unlocked the doors and wouldn’t actually start the car. Whoa doggie!
I ran inside and found the real keys in the bottom of my purse and whadaya know? That cranky little car cranked right up, sweet as strawberry jelly. I hollered over to Mike what was going down.
Mike rolled his eyes and then rolled his O2 tank back into his house.
I rolled myself into the kitchen to count my blessings.
A funky, roundabout kind of everyday miracle, I’ll admit, but still a miracle in my book. Grace notes. Evidence that Papa God is there, He’s aware, and He cares.
And sometimes angels with grease under their fingernails come with oxygen tanks.
Won’t you share your own grace notes with your community of BBFFs, my friend? We need to be encouraged by your story.