This past week was filled with some very lows and some very highs. And I'm not talking about the temperature. Over the course of the last couple of weeks, I have been looking for a new vehicle. My car is 14 years young and still running, but it is time. I have no air conditioning and with summer around the corner and triple digits only five days away, I am going to need one. On Sunday, I went on line at my bank and applied for a car loan. On Monday, I received an e-mail from Zion National Bank (the bank that my bank farmed the loan to) telling me it was declined and that I would receive a letter telling me why. I thought to myself, I will be proactive and call the number provided in the e-mail. Maybe they need more information. Maybe they need clarification. Maybe I want to know why they declined me and I don't want to wait for a letter. So I called. I was informed that I had too much credit. Too many charge cards (only three have a balance and that will be done with by Sunday). I couldn't believe it. Other times, I have tried to apply for a car loan and been told that my credit was so bad, I couldn't be a co-signer on the loan. I was stunned. And flabbergasted. I tried to explain. "I am a 55 year old woman. I have been with NSB for nearly 20 years; worked for the same employer for a little over 17 years. I have worked very hard over the last few years to repair and rebuild my credit. I have paid my bills on time; even before they were actually due. (I was told that paying your bills doesn't matter. Not paying them, however, counts against your credit.) I have paid my credit cards and charge cards in a timely manner and always more than the minimum amount. And I still can't get a loan?" I was crushed. I wanted so much to be able to walk into a dealership and say that I was approved for a car loan. My dream was toast. Or so I thought. More on that in Part II. (Didn't realize this would be a cliff hanger, did you?)
Tuesday, wasn't much better. On Sunday, I had noticed that my right front tire tread looked quite worn. That still small voice spoke up and said, you need to go to Pep Boys and get that taken care of. However, with an eye toward getting that new vehicle, I didn't want to spend any more money on my little Chevy than I really needed to. I thought, "Naw...I'll take care of that tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day." Thank you, Miss Scarlett. On Tuesday, I got to work, pulled my stuff out of my car, and started for the office. I noticed that my right front tire was quite low on air and that the tread was not only thin, but separating. Was that a steel belt I was seeing? Why yes, it was. Blast! Now I was going to have to take a half day off and go get it fixed. Always assuming I could make it to Discount Tires. So, I schedule the half day off. At 1pm I go to my car and, of course, the tire is flat. I felt like sweet, innocent Nell of the melodramas: Woe is me! O, cruel fate! I called into the office to see if anyone had Fix-A-Flat. No one did. I didn't want to have to call my Mommy. She was trying to get ready for her trip to Oklahoma the next morning. I ended up calling her. She stopped and bought a can of Fix-A-Flat. Well, neither of us was comfortable using it, so I called the office and asked if one of the guys (Erwin Canlas, you're my hero) would be able to come out and help. He did. The Fix-A-Flat didn't. I didn't think I had a spare, but I did. And it was good. Erwin changed the tire and put on the little donut. I made it to Discount Tires and $118.00 later, I was good to go.
Here is the thing. I was feeling weepy that day. I was missing my Daddy. I kept thinking that he should be here, because he would have gotten it taken care of for me. I wouldn't have had to stress about it. I wouldn't have had to call Mom and disrupt her day and trip preparations. As I waited for my Mom to come, I cried off and on. I tried, too, to find ways to praise God for what was happening. After all, I had been on the freeway that morning to come to work and the tire could have blown out and it didn't. I kept coming back to the fact that I am a father-less daughter and that he wasn't going to be there to help me ever again.
Here comes the plot twist, folks. Are you ready? That little donut? The spare we found conveniently nestled in the recess of my trunk? My Dad gave that to me a few years ago. When he and my Mom bought their Saturn Vue, he purchased a full sized spare and gave me their donut because mine had disintegrated. He had taken care of everything once again. And that alone is worth praising my Heavenly Daddy. He made sure that my earthly Daddy would be able to help me on a day when I was missing him so much. What a precious gift. I will treasure it always.
Coming soon (this afternoon): Double Feature, Part II.
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