Some trust in chariots

Saturday my car window got stuck in the down position. And the steering column (I think) has been making a strange popping noise when we turn the wheel. So this morning I used the truck to drop off Jon at work at 7(!), then stopped for breakfast at Gaileys. The truck's defrost fans are malfunctioning, so the driver has to wipe the fog off the inside of the windshield with a rag every few minutes to be able to see.* But it gets us there. Except this morning when I got out of Gailey's, and it didn't.

I sent out a frantic mass text, but soon realized that everyone who had to be awake at 8am probably was for a reason - and that reason was not jumping my car. Especially since...well, if you haven't noticed, it's been kind of rainy.

That's Ozark, MO, folks. Courtesy of KY3.

So I caught the bus to my meeting and made arrangements to meet two very, very special people that afternoon at the truck. After I finished work I took the bus back downtown, and we pushed the car to an alley (it was in a parallel parking spot with someone in front, so we couldn't maneuver the car to a jumping position). By the way, I owe these people dinner...and maybe breakfast, too.

After about 20 minutes of trying to get it to start, I called a tow. Then I tried to put it in neutral to move it closer to the curb, and it started! All I had to do was release the emergency brake. I reached down for the handle...and found nothing. More frantic phone calls ensued (this time to my dad, who sold me the truck), and after getting on my knees on the road, in two inches of rushing water, with three cars waiting behind me, peering up under the dash, I finally found the metal rod where the handle had once been.

I was already late for class and soaking wet, so after I picked Jon up from work, I just stayed at home, in spite of my night class. Oh, and we picked up a bottle of wine on the way. It was on sale.

I checked my horoscope for today and it says I will need to change my routine. No flipping joke.

On a serious note, I think for the last few months, God's been telling me to have hope. And a lot of really horrible things have happened in the last few months. God says, "Have hope," and so I keep hoping things won't happen, and then they do. But I don't think I'm supposed to have hope that things will get better. I think I'm supposed to have hope that in the end, eventually, God wins. And that's enough. When I'm knee deep in two inches of water, I can hope that I find the brake release, but just because God tells me, "Have hope," doesn't mean I can blame him when I can't find it. It just means I can continue to hope that things will eventually all be put to rights, and in the meantime, praise God I have friends who will push cars in the rain for me, that the truck actually started (eventually), and that when the woman who previously held my position at the library left, she also left her umbrella in the desk, and hasn't been back to claim it in six months.

So that's my nice little life today - grateful in the little things, enduring through the frustrating things, and badass in the tough things. Two inches of water. In my work pants and dress shoes.

Love, Katie

*Yes, this is dangerous, and we're getting it fixed ASAP. All this happened this weekend, ok? I promise.