This weekend I did something that would now be socially condemned. But, I knew I needed it. I anticipate these next few weeks and possibly months are going to be hard. Like many of us, I feel the tension of being under-prepared and over-prepared at the same time; being in the middle of a national emergency and just another Thursday afternoon; having the gift of time, but feeling too fretful to use it wisely.
This now-socially-condemned thing I did? I went to a woman’s retreat in Chelan, Washington. It’s strange how it all came about. I met the woman in charge of the retreat at the Oregon Christian Writer’s Conference in 2018. Her name is Janell Wood (I’m giving you her full name because she’s an up and comer ya’ll), she’s a joy and a delight. Her podcast “Something Real” is worth a listen too. I’m not the only one who thinks so because she has hosted this retreat five times in the last two and a half years.
She invited me months ago and I hesitated. I didn’t know anyone who’d be there besides Janell. It cost a little money, a little time, and some extra effort from my husband, Tré, to take care of our three girls by himself. I was really willing for the scale to dip either way, but Tré was more than willing to send me. So, I signed up.
The day neared and news of the Coronavirus and shutdowns began spreading throughout Washington. I questioned whether I should go, but restrictions were not mandated, groups of less than 250 could still gather, and my heart told me I’d need this.
The morning I packed my van little flurries of snow fell from the sky. Some had been predicted along with rain, but I could barely believe it was true. My four-year-old was running around in a tank-top dress the day before. I left early anticipating some possible delays in my way and a chance to write if I got to town early.
I didn’t know how much I’d need that extra time, but I soon found out. The snow became thicker as I drove north. I drove carefully, listening to my audiobook, gripping my steering wheel as I tried to keep my van centered over the bare tire tracks in front of me. But, as I gently followed the curve of the road my front tire slipped.
My van lost all connection with the road and I did a 360° turn and stoped with my trunk partially embedded in the base of Blewett pass. My front end faced the road and I was very thankful for a van-sized shoulder or else I would have been on the road. The snow continued to fall thickly as I got out of the van to inspect the damage.
Beyond our normal dents, paint spills, and paint flaking –nothing seemed damaged. I got back in the car, my audiobook still playing, and tried to drive out. But, my wheels spun in place unable to find traction. I was stuck and so I called for a tow.
As I was on the phone several people stopped to help me. One guy said he thought my front tires were toast. The tire gauge on my dash light turned on the moment he said that. Another person told me about a tire shop right next to the Cottage Cafe. I tucked that information away.
The person trying to get me a tow was frustrating. He kept on asking me if my car was damaged and my answer, that I couldn’t see the back half of my van, didn’t satisfy him. He said the towtruck he sent wouldn’t tow me if there was vehicle damage. Geeze! PS — This was a USAA representative. He also couldn’t locate me on a map. It was very frustrating. At that point, I hadn’t even had a chance to tell Tré what happened. Seriously, like forty minutes on the phone with this guy.
Then my saviors arrived in the form of a very tall college-age guy and a super-sweet redheaded college-age girl. They were driving by and felt prompted to turn around and come back. I’d already had four guys stop to help plus a semi-driver who offered to pull me out but couldn’t guarantee the bumper wouldn’t just rip off my van. I was thankful for their help but wasn’t sure what could they do.
They knew, thankfully. They got behind my van and in 30 seconds I was road-worthy. Well, at least drive-to-the-closest-tire-shop worthy. I am so grateful they stopped to help. I am so grateful I knew exactly where to go because of the advice I’d already received. I drove to Cle Elum, about ten miles away, as quickly as I dared.
When I got to the town I slowed way down and heard a horrifying flump, flump, flump. I wasn’t sure which tire it was or if it was more than one, but I put my hazards on and prayed to God to help me get the last quarter of a mile there. And please, please, please help me not ruin my wheels.
I saw the Cottage Cafe and flumped into Tire Shop. My left passenger side tire was shredded, but the other three held up. The way my van sounded I wouldn’t have been surprised if all of them were flat. Besides a lot of dirt on my back bumper and a tailpipe that looked like it took a beating, my van looked good.
I wondered briefly if the tailpipe had been plugged… Could I have died from asphyxiation? Enough people stopped by to help that I kept getting in and out of my van. I’m thankful to not know the answer to that question.
After some second-guessing on whether they had my tires, two were located. While I got a burger they were installed. All the little parts of my rescue fell into place and I was back on the road. It was just enough.
The retreat was amazing because of course I still went. The community of women welcomed me in and I was so encouraged. I know I will be thinking back to it again and again as our nation undergoes this dramatic shift.
God provided enough and it wasn’t even through the insurance company I’d paid money for. It was through kind, generous, helpful people. Gandhi says, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” I love that quote. As we face uncertainty be the kind of person God can use in any circumstance.
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