Car shopping isn’t my favorite pastime. Fortunately, I’ve not needed to shop for a different car very often. Our last car, a trusty Honda is still going strong with 344,000 miles on it.
These past two weeks of car shopping and waiting on God have been an exercise in hope, hope dashed, trust and then loss of trust in a man’s word, anticipation and disappointment.
I’ve had a long-held dream of owning a classy sports car, a convertible to be exact. For a long time I dreamed of it being red and then as time wore on I decided that dream was not very practical. A few months ago Dane brought up the subject of my red sports car. I thought I had tucked that longing away or eradicated it totally.
An opportunity came to share our trusty car with someone else who needed it, and Dane suggested we do that and look for a different car for me, maybe that classy car I had longed for.
At first I allowed the longing to surface again, though I decided black would be a better color choice. We looked at a couple of private owner cars and were sad to see how people overrated the condition of their cars to cause us to drive lots of miles to view their car, only to learn that it was fairly trashed. After a couple of those disappointing trips I decided my longing had been foolish, I was angry at Dane for reviving it. I decided I’d settle for just an older Honda again, maybe in black with possibly a sun roof.
One of our sons asked me when I would risk going for what I wanted and enjoy living instead of living so cautious? It gave me new thoughts to add to the others already swirling in my head. We had prayed about offering the car up for sale. And we were praying daily for just that exact car God had for us. What did God really want for me for a newer car? Would I be patient and trust His choice? How long would it take?
The next morning a car appeared on the used car listing for our area that fit what we were looking for. It was black, with a black convertible top and dark grey leather interior and much more sensible than my original desire of a two-seater. It had a roomy back seat for holding all the “things” I end up transporting home as well as grandchildren and child restraint seats and it had a decent sized trunk.
Would I risk being disappointed again by daring to look into the possibility of this car? It could result in another betrayal of truth. Would I hear the words of my son and entertain living large and risking freedom from fear of what if’s?
Well……………I did risk again. And sitting in my garage is a beautiful, black convertible. It’s an older car, but lovingly cared for inside and out and the mileage is low considering it’s age. It’s a beauty!
God is a crazy man! He allowed for the fulfillment of a long-held dream of mine, to own a classy black sports car convertible. The risk feels good, crazy, wild and fun – words I’m purposing to add to my life and vocabulary much more often these days!
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