Iceberg Dead Ahead

No, I wasn’t on a ship that sunk. But my bank account has sunk a bit, not too mention I’m battling to stay above water with my joy-as this passenger aboard ship tries to get to the bottom of horrible navigation from leadership we are supposed to trust. I’m flailing fighting against the idea to be “joyful in all trials and tribulations.”

Yesterday it rained. Last night it froze. My car was about two miles from my friend’s house. When taking my exit, police lights shine brightly, much like the star in the east. Just beyond that star is where my destination lies. Unfortunately after this wise man made a closer examination, the realization occurred that someone hit an ice patch and found their way into the sidewall of the ramp. Immediately my gut said, “turn around.” I wish I had listened. My wise man score just dropped to a “b”.

After thirty minutes, traffic began to move. Joy rose up in me. My nerves were already beginning to nudge me in anticipation of getting to my destination safely. A parking space at an apartment complex never sounded so good. Halfway up the off ramp, all of we ramp passengers come to a stand still. Thirty minutes passes. An hour passes. It was time to make friends. Out of my car and into the cold I went. It felt like being at a PTA meeting with parents who weren’t happy with the school system. Although one man was content to be sitting still after his car had recently three-sixtied on the main highway. After the meeting it was back to the car to get warm. Another light, yet not the star of the east, but despair—the gaslight. The yellow couldn’t have shouted at me any louder. The options: turn of my car and be cold or stay warm and go ahead and call AAA for gas. Survey says: car off.

Two hours pass. It was getting colder outside and inside the car, and I was getting restless and more nervous. After two hours of fidgeting, I felt a small nudging from the Lord to spend some time with Him. The first thing I asked for was for Him to supernaturally fill my gas tank and my car with heat.

Thirty minutes later a cop arrives. It is now 12:30 am (three hours into the process) After assessing the situation, and after realizing he couldn’t even drive halfway up the ramp, I was at least hoping for a verdict. All of us received one. We had to abandon our cars for the night because due to the iceberg at the top of the hill, no one could pass. We were then asked to come back at 8 am to retrieve our cars. After getting two bags from my trunk, I struggled up the hill, using any car I could to help me ice ski to safety.

8 a.m. and the car is nowhere to be found. After investigation it is learned that all the cars were impounded and towed away. Two hours later, $139 poorer, and irritation at a new level, phone calls are beginning to be made as to the reason for this debacle. No answers yet, but this steamboat is full speed ahead.