My Jeep’s heat is broken, blowing a cool draft into my face tauntingly every time I try to turn it on in faith. My back right window is stuck in the down position, and I am too prideful to tape up the ensuing gap, so I shiver on late nights and early mornings of late. Every time I approach my vehicle in a parking lot, I see another dent I’ve never noticed before. It’s uncanny, yet all of this was bearable until this past Friday.

Friday was the day I noticed that my brakes weren’t communicating properly with my brake lights. The brake lights remain on whether the car is in motion or not. I’ve employed the use of The Club®  between my steering wheel and brake pedal to eradicate the problem while the car is parked, but every time I remove the pressure, the light blinks back on.

Friday was also the day I realized that my wallet was averse to paying for anyone to fix this issue, or any of the afore-mentioned ones for that matter. On Saturday, I found the wide berth of space granted to me by others amusing. I laughed about my dilemma with my fellow passengers. Today, I realized the gravity of sending mixed signals to other drivers managing vehicles weighing several hundred pounds on the asphalt.

I put a temporary end to the problem by wedging my foot under the brake pedal and applying pressure by raising it. All was well for a few miles, until I began experiencing intense pain. It seemed I had two options available to me. The first involved driving comfortably, albeit risking a ticket while simultaneously confusing others. The second involved being in a state of constant pain, yet ensuring that I managed my vehicle responsibly. I found myself in a quandary briefly.

The muscles in my foot burned, and I became bitter as my journey seemed to drag on. Every time I saw a stop sign, I breathed a sigh of relief at the mandatory pause it dictated. I drove within the constraints of the speed limit and stopped at every yellow light. I drove like someone’s grandmother. Anyone’s in fact, besides my own, who drives like a speed demon. Alas, I digress…

As all of this took place, and I listened to Josh Garrels on the stereo, it hit me.

There will be times when things happen suddenly and we have no technical knowledge or recourse with which to combat the crises. We won’t know why this particular moment is the one God chose to allow things to go awry. As unforeseen life circumstances arise, we can respond in either of two ways. We can stretch ourselves to remain predictable, dependable, responsible citizens in our communities or we can simply choose not to. We can look out for own comforts and interests wholeheartedly, but doing so puts ourselves and those around us at risk.

The truth was, today, my journey was not about me. The pain I experienced slowed my pace, and caused me to detour, but I operated in a way that demonstrated care for others. Even while being stretched, I groaned for blocks before realizing that I had a vehicle to drive around in on a day where the predicted high is 43 degrees. I cruised past many pedestrians who didn’t have the luxury of 4 wheel drive or a large trunk with tinted windows in which to carry their baggage out of view.

God has seen fit to bless me with both, and for that I’m grateful. Yep, even when it hurts. Why? Because realizing that this is what it takes for me to slow down and come to a halt lately is sobering. Rest is truly such a wonderful thing.

Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy-laden and overburdened, and I will cause you to rest. [I will ease and relieve and refresh your souls.] [ Matthew 11:28 (AMP)]