The Major Meltdown

Yesterday, the wrathful manifestation that had been brewing for the last few weeks erupted on the "drive" (and I use that term loosely) home. The engine in my car cracked, breaking one of the cylinders. It still drove, I just couldn't drive past 65 MPH and the car shook violently whenever I had to stop at a light. But alas, those were the good ole' days.I was feeling sorry for myself because I have to drive 110 miles a day to work and back and really wanted my car to make it another two weeks until my internship ended.

This week, the newspaper I work for is putting together three separate publications, which translates to triple the amount of work. It has been a busy week with Will's 30Th birthday party, 4Th of July, and all the extra work and deadlines. The night before the "meltdown," I went to bed at 12 a.m. and woke up at 1:45 a.m. I could not get back to sleep and stayed awake until I had to start getting ready for work at 6 a.m. On the way to work, the car stalled out whenever it went up a hill. It took me over two hours to get to work.

After working until 5 (on an hour and half of sleep), I was tired, cranky, and just wanted to get home. Not only did my car stall the ENTIRE way home, I couldn't drive it past 30 MPH, if it was up hill, less than 10 MPH. I just wanted to get it home, so I wouldn't have to call a tow truck. It was so hot in the car, which didn't help my mood. Even though I was all the way over in the right lane (literally on the shoulder with my flashers on) people were flipping me off and beeping at me. I prayed that God would just get me home in one piece and then I would swallow my big, fat, stupid pride and call Nick and Leah Smith, who so generously offered to let me borrow their extra car for a awhile.

Just as the 30Th person whizzed by my chugging car desperately trying to get up yet another hill and promptly flipped me off, the car stalled and started to roll backwards down the hill. My Irish temper got the better of me as I repeatedly banged the steering wheel, screamed like a banshee, and let loose a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush. It was quite possibly the ugliest flesh fit I have ever thrown in my entire life. After the rage passed, uncontrollable tears surfaced, partly because I just wanted to be home and out of my death-trap of a car, partly because I was so deliriously tired, and mostly because I was so disgusted with my behavior.

I pulled it together and started to just thank God that a tractor trailer hadn't crushed me, that I'm alive and well and have a wonderful life, good family and friends, and the best husband I could ever ask for. I thanked God for Nick and Leah's generosity-then as quickly as I started thanking, I started to complain in my heart, because it was already past 8 (taking me over 3 hours to get home) and the thought of driving to Toccoa to pick up the car and having to get up at 5:30 the next morning was more than I could handle (I know, my ungratefulness knows no bounds).

Despite my completely unwarranted fit and pity-party, God, in His grace, met me where I was. At that moment of exhaustion, Will called to tell me that not only were Nick and Leah going to lend us their car, but that they would drop it off at our house! It may sound silly, but that for me was a miracle. God will use the Body to meet the needs of His people even when they don't deserve it. So, I just wanted to confess my temper-tantrum, express my gratitude to Nick and Leah for being loving generous people, and thank the Lord for meeting our needs, yet again.