3 Cars Down...

I seem to be quite attached to my emotions. I have dubbed myself an "emotion-dweller". Once I pick an emotional theme for the day-usually chosen based on vital factors and events such as the success of my hairstyle or the way my breakfast tastes-I usually make that emotion my constant companion. When my emotion is a happy one, life is amazing, no matter what. My job is amazing, my car is amazing, my husband is amazing, my socks are amazing... I am just one big bundle of red-headed cheesiness. Conversely, when my toe gets stubbed the minute I get out of bed or if I end up in the same old hoodie because none of my outfits look quite right, the emotion I get stuck with is: crabby. On days like that day, I walk with hooded eyes, glaring at patients and coworkers alike, convinced that the world may as well end if it's going to keep going in this direction.

It was on such a day that our car broke down. Again. We have three of those. Cars, I mean. Three cars that don't work. Let me begin this story of breaking cars at the beginning:

Last Saturday night, Jonny and I were joined by my sister, Natalie, her husband, John, their baby, Brianne, my other sister, Andrea (whose husband, John, stayed in Colorado), and Andrea's baby, Mojo (a hyper-active, fit, noisy, little pug.) Three women, two men, a baby, and a pug, all camping out for a weekend in a little one-bedroom apartment. It was, for the record, one of my favorite weekends to date. Nothing, I thought, could scare Happy away from me after being with my sisters for two straight days.

Well, Sunday morning came around and we all bundled up and got ready to head off to church. We discovered that our Ford Contour had a flat. Well, good thing we still had my Mazda and Jonny's 1986 Buick.

Strike that. We HAD my Mazda. It's constant screeching upon start-up finally convinced me to take it into the shop. Monday afternoon, the mechanic called. It would take $1,100 to fix that car. I'm not even sure if it's WORTH over a thousand dollars. I cried a little, panicked a lot, and called my husband. He seemed to be unaffected by it, saying it will all work out and to just have faith that we are doing the right things. Oh if I could just have convinced Crabby to move out of the way so that I could possibly see the silver lining in all of this. I took a deep breath and remembered that we had been through the one-car routine before, and we could do it again if we had to. We have a friend who could probably fix the Mazda for cheaper, and at least I still have family and friends and a warm place to sleep and really cool socks.

More deep breaths.

Then the next day, on the way home from picking up Jonny from work, the Buick started sputtering, then knocked a little, then smoke started coming from the hood. We were minutes from home, in the middle of what was projected to be the biggest blizzard in years, and our last car was breaking down. I couldn't stop laughing. And then I couldn't stop crying. Every single "woe, is me" that I could think of came spewing angrily from my mouth. I was giving up. My husband sat silently in the passenger seat next to me, waiting for all my theatrics to work themselves out of my system. I don't know how he remains so calm when his wife is so obviously not. More reassurances, more helpful pats on the knee, more effort to convince me that everything was going to be ok because the Lord won't just abandon someone He just handed a trial to.

I would love to say that I sighed a heavy sigh of relief, and happily sputtered the remainder of the drive home to our apartment, but that's not exactly what happened. Crabby stuck with me through most of the day, I am ashamed to admit that I just could not shake the feeling that everything was hopeless, and that life could not possibly get any worse.

In my massive pout, I found the following quote posted on my friend, Debbie's, facebook status:

"What I am trying to teach is that when we keep the temple covenants we have made and when we live righteously in order to maintain the blessings promised by those ordinances, then come what may, we have no reason to worry or to feel despondent."
—Richard G. Scott

Ah, what perspective appeared so suddenly in my little torn-apart world! Something suddenly changed. For the record, our problems weren't suddenly solved. I didn't have a magic car appear and our car(s) didn't repair themselves, but I realized that my embarrassing lack of faith had made it very difficult to see that there is a way out of this mess; that things could-and someday probably would-be worse, but if I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, the Lord would take care of us. Jonny and I are being taught very valuable lessons. Appreciation for each other, and the things that we DO have; that ARE going right.

Eventually, I will look back at this experience and giggle a little at the struggles of newlywed life, but for now I'm just trying to conquer Crabby and make more room for a little bit of faith.

Steph-1
Crabby-0