Bumpy Road

About a week and a half before Thanksgiving, Todd and I did something we assumed was unthinkable in our first year of marriage. We applied for a loan to purchase a car, a black, all-wheel drive, 2003 Honda Element, with 115,000 miles on it. It's exactly the kind of car we need, for moving gear, for carpooling, for traveling with a pet and for navigating the treacherously snowy/icy streets of St. Louis when the winter hits.

We're blessed to have two functioning vehicles at the moment, but during this vehicular transition time, all kinds of roadblocks emerged.

First, because of various lacks of credit, employment and a vehicle with over 100,000 miles on it, no bank wants to give us a loan. We're denied multiple times, even as the kind men at the dealership rearrange our application to try and work something out. We're sad because it's too expensive to fly to Texas, so this puts us in the gold Civic for 10 hours. There are a lot worse things, but I hated to tack that mileage onto our one high-functioning car.

Second, one week before our scheduled road trip, I hydroplaned in the gold Civic. Right into an exit ramp sign. I cracked the radiator and caused roughly $4500 worth of damage. We opted to get the car fixed and pay the $500 deductible upon pickup. But its not scheduled to be finished until Dec. 7th.

Then, there's Jade. Her engine has been growling and grumbling like metal in a garbage disposal for weeks now. She's okay for Todd to drive to and from work, but she's basically banned from long distances. So a few weeks ago, this Bosnian kid who works at Coldstone next to Todd's starbucks tells him that for $800, he'll buy the car as is and turn it into a racecar. So we print out paperwork and have everything ready to make the sale. On the day of my accident, the kid comes in with $800 in his hand to buy the car. However, his dad determines that since the car doesn't have power steering, it's not worth it. They walk out and the severe disappointment is mutual.

So Jade and I do that awkward, post-goodbye, "Hey! Thought you were leaving?" "So did I!", reunion thing. I peruse car rental discounts and wonder how in the world this is going to go.

Then, two days later, the call comes in. Miraculously, we got the loan for the Element. We are in shock and unbelievably grateful. We travel about 100 miles in one day getting the paperwork signed and picking the car up. We pull over into a parking lot and get out and fold all the seats up and down and marvel at our little transformer. We name him Rufio. We are so happy and can't believe we get to drive to Texas in our dream car. :)

Then, the day before our trip, my phone completely freaks out. The touch screen has a meltdown and the entire contraption is just batty and unresponsive. I take it to the Sprint store, hoping they can fix it. While I am there, some dude hits on me and I have to flash my ring at him. Sprint takes my phone, and gives me a old, loaner flip phone... which is nice of them, except that it has no texting. And of course, no internet or GPS.

We pick it up Friday morning. Todd calls in favors to get out of work earlier on Tuesday so we don't have to leave for Dallas at 4am on Wednesday morning. Everything works out beautifully and we're scheduled to leave at 9:30am, Tuesday morning.

The phone rings.

It's Todd's manager, who's on vacation. Due to bad decision making on one of the other staff members parts, Todd ends up having to wait around all day and go in to work from 3:30pm-5pm, thus delaying our trip by a considerable amount of hours. I sit in Starbucks, waiting, brooding and slowly realizing that despite all the setbacks, I really have SO much to be thankful for. (I was going to write a blog about it, but I ran outta time because in the next moment, my phone rang, telling me my new Instinct had arrived and I could come pick it up. For free. Praise the Lord!)

We drive to Texas in our new ride on Tuesday night. We have an amazing thanksgiving weekend with my family. We drive back to STL, full and happy and grateful-- trusting the Lord for all the little frustrations that will work out in His perfect time.