Singin’ the Blues or Shouting Hallalujah

Singin’ the Blues or Shouting Hallalujah

Yesterday I bought a car. Not a new car, mind you, one that’s a couple of years old with low mileage and high warranty. What does that have to do with writing? Yes. Thanks for asking. I’ve noticed I don’t do a very good job of putting together a coherent sentence when my mind is traveling down a road of indecision. Parking lots full of cars are like a maze of mechanical mysteries.  All are probably good. Some are amazing and there are those with an attitude. They talk to me! They are not, like me,  indecisive. They have a little technological person who lives somewhere deep  inside their working parts whose job it is to guide this poor mortal and offer help. Do I need to talk to someone? Tell The Voice. Do I need driving directions? The Voice knows and isn’t bashful about giving orders. She even sounds offended if I ask her if she’s sure. But, she’s there and doesn’t seem to need food or water, so who am I to complain?

Finally, I settle on a cute vehicle which looks as if it is just sitting there, waiting for me to take it home. I ask the salesman about it. “Oh, yes,” he assures me. “This one was meant for you. Drive it. Smell it. Run your hand over its smooth outside and sit in its wonderful inside. You wouldn’t want this one to get away.”

So, I sit in it. I drive it. I notice how cars have improved over the last thirteen years. I take it home with me and it fits snugly in my garage and looks quite at home there. OK. I’ll buy it. But now comes the really hard part. As well as improving over the last decade, cars have acquired a lot of little extras that come with a lot bigger selling price. Oh, my goodness! Let’s see, could I get a job washing dishes in a restaurant? Could I go back to teaching? Could I put up signs that read, “Please buy my books and make me a rich, best-selling author?”

And then, can I trust my judgment? I’d better call in some experts, some people who know about these things, so I call and I ask for input. Thank you, Matt, Dawn, Sara, Nathan, Tracy, Richard, Jim, Lola, Carol, Cozy Critters. And I feel better. They seem to think it’s a good car but it is my decision, they say. I don’t like making decisions, especially big ones. But not deciding is a decision too, so I take the plunge.

It was hard to go to sleep last night. Did I do right? Will I regret it? What a lot of money went down the drain in one fell swoop! And then, there’s my old car. I’ve had Lizzie for nigh onto thirteen years. She and I have been through a lot together. You might say, we’ve traveled a lot of roads and seen a lot of sights, a lot of changes too. How could I just abandon her? Will she creep into a corner and huddle, sad-eyed and accusing?

But, that is called looking back. It’s called second guessing. It’s called, in a word, being miserable, and the Bible says I should not look back. Anyone knows that someone plowing a field and looks at where she has been rather than at where she is going, is bound to wind up with a mighty crooked furrow. So, I can’t look back. I don’t know what the future is, but it seems to include a new/old car who needed a home and that home was mine! And, the deed is done! Whew.

Rather than show you a picture of a mechanical piece of man’s handiwork, I wanted to leave you with a picture of God’s handiwork–my back yard covered in leaves that only their Creator could have colored and strewn to carpet the ground. They are truly beautiful.

And now, I wish you a day filled with happy decisions, trust in God’s leadership, and, please, no looking back!

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