Death of a Passport

The school year has wrapped up, much to my relief. For the first time in a long time, I am now in true vacation mode. Project Destiny is about to start, so please pray for them. Meanwhile, I'll be using the blog for the next month or so to update folks on my "Sabbatical" from youth ministry and other responsibilities. I am in Middlebury, Vermont for the next 6 weeks-- I arrived yesterday. It's silent here, like a monastery; but I am becoming acclimated to the solitude.


Here's an excerpt from my journal yesterday about the loss of my Honda and how I arrived in Middlebury at last:

...so I headed towards Vermont, knowing all I was leaving behind and much of what awaited me. Or so I thought. In Grantham, NH, the Honda began to sputter. As soon as I exited the I 89 and slowed down, the engine ground to a halt. I lost all power and barely was able to apply the brakes before hitting the perpendicular street. Apparently my car was on fire. A woman happened to pull up behind me and called for a state trooper, who arrived within seconds. He gave my car a shove towards an auto-repair, which happened to be less than 10 seconds away.

After arriving at the garage, I was told that the Passport was, for all intents and purposes, dead. The water-pump had blown and caused all sorts of heat damage to the engine block, possibly cracking a piston. The parts of the engine block had melted from the fire. “$700 just to see if the car will run,” she said. “And we can’t fix it today.”

I pondered the possibility of camping out in my Passport for a few nights while the car was fixed. I could have done it, but when one of the lead mechanics expressed severe doubt that the engine would ever start again, I knew I’d have to abandon my once-faithful steed. I called my father, who owns the car, and both my parents decided to come right away to pick up me and my stuff. Meanwhile, Deb, the manager, offered to take the Passport off of my hands for a $125 payment, which I decided was a good deal considering everything that had happened and all the services her garage had given me. So, all that was left to do was for me to wait 3 hours while watching minnows in a nearby stream and reading Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline.

When my parents finally arrived, I had been praying that it would be an opportunity for them to be good to one another. It appeared as if God had listened to that prayer. They were in a very good mood. For a little while, we thought out loud with one another about our options. They both finally agreed with me. What surprised me the most was they also wanted me to take my mom’s Rav4 and continue to Vermont! I tried to resist, but they insisted so unitedly that I had to just humbly accept their offer.

Perhaps God used this as an opportunity to help me appreciate my parents more. But then again, God did a lot of things that also turned this tough situation into a gift. He made sure I stalled at the best possible place and at a time when I was not in a hurry to be somewhere important. He brought along that lady who called the trooper. He helped me to stay calm and full of peace in a potentially stressful scenario. So in the end, I definitely praise the Lord for his providence and sovereignty in situations where I might not be sure of why things are happening.