my stick shift

I have recently learned (again) how to drive a stick shift. My husband and I were blessed to be given a 2001 Subaru. It is in great shape, and we were so excited about getting it. It came in perfect time as our other two vehicles were dying. My husband told me all of the fancy features from a cd player to butt warmers. I was so excited to start driving this blessing. It is the first nice car we will own. I pictured myself driving to our local Target in style, with my warm bottom cheeks. And then he told me the bad news, it is a stick shift. This is the worst news ever. Rust I could handle, no radio would be hard, but I would deal with that, but a stick shift! My spirits and dreams started to sink down. My trips to Target were now filled with my husband in the drivers seat. This isn't bad, but now I am on his schedule, and alone time will be harder. I had a decision to make, spend every day, all day at home, or learn to drive the trecherous stick shift.

We were meeting friends and my husband was riding with others, the only way I could get to the restaurant was if I drove our car. I looked at it in the parking lot mocking me. I wondered what the car would look like after it's first trip with me. And then I wondered what the other car would look like, you know, the one I will hit. But I pulled myself out of these thoughts and I decided it was time, and got in to start it. Much to my suprise, it started the first time! Now reverse, then first gear..stop sign...first gear...stop sign..speed bump (took that a bit to fast!) and out of the drive way! I was so excited to be on the road without any stallings. First gear, second gear, fifth gear, uh, wait, what's that noise?! I went from second gear to fifth and somehow stalled the car. I pulled over on the side of the road, cars racing by, my adrenaline pumping and my nerves out of control. "I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THIS!" I yelled through my tears and fear. I stared the car up again, and drove it to my destination. I made it fine. It was rush hour, and i was very nervous. When i got out of the car, I hoped I never had to drive it again.

But i knew if I ever wanted to go anywhere, I would have to get in that seat once more. The next time I did, was the week before Christmas. Traffic was super bad, and I stalled it a million times. I cried. I stopped, took a breather, ate some chicken wings, and got back in the drivers seat. The thing is, I had no choice. I had to get back in if I wanted to get home. My life is much like this 2001 Subaru.

Everyday I wake up wondering how I am going to make it one more day. I look at the big picture of the ministry I am in, and my bills piling up, and my friendships and family, and I wonder how it is going to work out. How is it going to be ok? I suddenly get that feeling in my stomach. The one that is much like butterflies, but evil ones. It hurts and eventually eats away at the lining in your stomach. I stop, cry and take a breather. "One day at a time, one hour, one minute", is the phrase I tell myself. That is how I live. That is how I get rid of those evil butterflies in my stomach. Trusting that God will kill every one of them with His promise to take care of me. And I DO love Him, but it is in all of this jerking and gear shifting and even stalling that I get confused and want to stop driving all together. But I can't really. Because I have to keep going, if I want to get home.