It is Thanksgiving Monday. I should be cleaning my house in preparation for a half dozen people coming over to cook and eat and be loud and make it messy again (that's what a family does). Dean is still in China. I miss him, but life is good. God takes care of me and there is nothing to complain about.
Two nights ago I was on my way home from a dinner with friends when I decided to follow the suggestion of the GPS voice and take an alternate road to my house. It said it was shorter, so I decided to try it. I had not taken that particular route in a while and as soon as I did, I realised that I was in trouble. My exit was closed due to construction. Then the next exit put me on a side road with orange pylons and scraped pavement and still the exit I wanted was blocked off! I kept driving, not enjoying the bumpy, excavated driving surface, and too late, saw one of those horrible manholes sticking up a few inches out of the pavement with its sharp edges.
A loud noise came from the back of the car and I knew something had happened...again. (see this blog for another time the evil manhole got our tires.) I kept going since I was on a road that was down to a single lane due to the construction and finally came to a place where it widened and I could turn off. I pulled to the side of the road, let the exasperated driver behind me whiz by, and got out. Yep, my rear driver tire had a huge gash in it. What to do? It was after 10 pm and Dean was out of town. I have helped people change tires, but really had no desire to try it myself on a dark street. I decided to drive the 2 kilometers home, slowly, and run the risk of ruining the rim.
I put on my flashers and crawled home, wincing at every small dip and pothole in the road. I prayed all the way, whining pleading fretting prayers, and was sooo relieved to finally pull up in front of my condo. I decided that the next day I would ask someone to help me change the tire, but for now, I would stop worrying about it. I enjoyed a drink, watched a bit of tv, and went to bed at 1:41 am. At 1:45 am Dean called from China.
We talked about everything and anything and I told him about the tire. He said, "Matte, you have Honda Roadside Assistance. You can just call them and they will come change the tire for you." Duh! I hadn't thought of that! Help had been 10 digits away last night and instead, I just went on my way, dragging my flat tire with me, hoping for the best. I called the HRA the next morning and just over an hour later, my tire was changed in a few minutes by a friendly guy who had obviously done this before.
How many times do I just keep on going in my life, circumstances having ripped into me and deflated my joy, and limp on home instead of addressing the injury? I do more damage, but because I can still function to some degree, I decide that's just the way it is and I'll live with it. I forget that help is available 24/7. A man is waiting for my call, ready to spring into action, and he has helped countless people before and he knows exactly what he is doing and if I just have a little patience and am willing to wait for him, he will come through on my behalf. Yes, I will call next time. I will get help earlier.
Call to Me and I will answer you and show you great and mighty things, fenced in and hidden, which you do not know (do not distinguish and recognize, have knowledge of and understand). Jeremiah 33:3 Amplified
This is another scene from the Laurentians last week. No manholes on this path.