Last night my brother went with me to collect my car. It didn’t look like any parts had been taken out. JJ was able to put the tires back on, and get it off of the lift, and over to the other repair shop. Thank You, Jesus, for a brother that knows his way around a repair shop! We had a bit of trouble getting it off the lift, but JJ figured it all out.
I already got a phone call this morning from the new shop, confirming that it was the Master Cylinder that needed repaired, and a quote for how much it would cost - $200 less than the original shop! Hallelujah! I don’t think the repair guy had ever had someone respond with such enthusiasm and gratitude when giving a quote before. He also told me that my car would be ready tomorrow afternoon - another big relief, as my sister-in-law comes home on Saturday evening, and they will need their other car back that I’ve been driving.
Much weight lifted. One of the best Valentine’s Day presents I’ve ever received.
Only God is good enough to use absolutely every circumstance to bring us closer to Him. Even this completely unfair, crappy situation with my car.
It’s so easy with car things for me to think if I had a man around, that would make the whole situation better. I mean there is not much else that will make a single girl feel so completely helpless than car problems. I know NOTHING about cars, or where to take them. I am utterly dependent on the men in my life for this, and am also completely aware that it isn’t anyone’s responsibility but my own to deal with. I am totally at the mercy of their willingness and availability to help, and at the same time trying to concoct a plan to deal with it myself if necessary.
This morning after just getting the news I left a message for my brother JJ - he is the most car savvy, mechanically inclined of all the men in my life. Then I tried to focus, and wait patiently for him to return my phone call, which was terribly difficult to do. Thoughts drifting to if only I had a man in my life… and if JJ isn’t able to help, then what? Somewhere in the midst of work and worry, a CA friend commented on my blog post, simply saying “Just remember, Krissie, He is enough”. I read it, and walked into the bathroom sometime after reading it, and as funny as this sounds (it’s even funnier if you’ve seen the bathroom where I work) I had a moment with God. It went something like this.
ME: (thinking to myself, not acutally talking out loud cause that would be embarassing) He’s enough… What does that mean in this situation? Is He enough?
God: Hi
ME: Oh, hi, yes you’re here, I guess I could be directing this at you instead of trying to figure it all out on my own…
(I then proceeded to tell God how I needed a man to deal with this situation for me)
God: I’m enough
Me: Umm, no seriously God, my car is up on a lift in a closed repair shop with all of the tires off of it lying on the floor. The hood is open and I don’t know what parts may or may not have been taken out of it, or where those parts may or may not be. I have no idea how much this is going to cost me now, but I’m pretty certain that no one is going to step in and own the additional expenses here.
God: I’m enough
Me: But you can’t fix my car, you can’t even get it down off of the lift
God: oh really?
Me: OK fine, you are capable
God: so then…
Me: You’re enough.
God: say it again
Me: You’re enough.
God: I know you don’t feel like it sometimes, but even this situation matters to me.
Me: Really? cause it seems so unimportant compared to so many other things, like those orphans in India that Michelle is with. I just assumed I’d have to take care of this one on my own.
God: I’m enough… I’m enough for orphans… I’m enough for cars in dissary on a lift in a closed repair shop.
Me: You’re enough.
(exit bathroom)
This afternoon my brother called back. He is going to meet me and the court appointed receiver at the repair shop tomorrow at 5. He is going to put the tires back on for me, and inspect my car for missing parts, then help me get it out of the repair shop, and across the street to another shop. My older brother also called and offered to take me to dinner. My coworker called the across the street repair shop for me to ask if they could make the repair. My close friend Melissa went to lunch with me, offered her husband to help if needed, and then sent me a nice ecard.
Yes God, you are enough… and if you could continue to be enough through the rest of this situation, I’d be grateful. Thanks.
Me
So, I got a phone call this morning from the court appointed receiver of the repair place that I took my car to. They are now closed, and I need to figure out how to get my car back. My car is now up on a lift, with all of the tires off of it, and no one can tell me in what state of repair it was in, like if a part has been removed and is lying out of it.
I’m not having a good day…
My brakes have been off. I noticed something funky with them back in September, so I called the Honda dealer… I described the issue, they said you can bring it in if you want, but it’s a really common issue. We get calls about it often, and it’s actually not a big deal. It’s only doing that because the brakes share a vacuum with the A/C, and you won’t ever not be able to brake because of it…
My brother has driven my car a few times, and agreed with me that things didn’t seem right. When I got the oil changed in December, I asked them to take a look at the brakes, they said they were fine, and that I had 40% of the brake pad left.
Long story short the Honda dealer was wrong! Today I was out for lunch, went by Panera, got my standard Fuji Apple Chicken Salad to take back to the office. Noticed that my brakes felt particularly bad. Pulled into Sonic to get the also standard Vanilla Diet Dr. Pepper, and nearly hit a car that was pulling out, because my brakes stopped working all together. I swerved up onto the curb to avoid the car, and pulled my emergency brake to stop.
I then proceeded to call the men in my life to figure out what to do about it. Matt came to get me, and pulled my car into a parking spot for me. Derek later this afternoon was brave enough to drive my car to a repair shop, and in a few days, and $650 poorer I’ll be the proud owner of a new Master Cylinder. (Confession, I just had to turn to the guys in the office and ask them again what the name of the part on my car that was being repaired was.)
Fun times! Glad I wasn’t some place else, and trying to brake around a turn, or at an intersection.