Bright ruby brake lights flash as the cars ahead slow, unable to avoid the tree blocking the road. Lit up by a chorus of headlights, three men struggle to clear the tree and there’s a small black hatchback stuck in the mud while a young woman calls the cops. I get out of my car to help. We break branches, leveraging our legs to snap off big limbs. The torso of the tree is all that’s left and we yank and tug, pulling with all our might, but it just won’t move. We leave it and the cars just pass around.
The black hatchback is still stuck and the girl driving it is stranded on this rural two lane road. I size up her situation and offer to push. Fumbling for footing on the small patch of grass right in the middle of gobs of thick mud, I lean into the bumper while she pumps the gas pedal and revs the engine. The wheels spin, but the car won’t move.
Out of the corner of my eye I see my car headlights begin to flicker, fading. I rush back to find that I didn’t have the engine running after all. Once, twice, three times, I turn the key with no result. Now I’m stuck too. Calling my sister, hoping she can help, I reach her and within a few seconds my cell battery dies. I can only hope she’s coming.
Red and blue lights pierce through the oncoming traffic and the familiar outline of a Crown Victoria parks behind my broke down car. The officer is in an especially foul mood. Under his breath, he curses and it’s apparent our dilemma is an inconvenience. Two men stop to assist us, and we push the girl’s car out of the mud while the officer watches from the road. She drives off and I scratch my head, wondering how I got myself into this predicament. Now I’m stranded.
The minutes pass with no sign of my sister’s car. I can tell the officer is getting more and more impatient with me. His wife keeps calling him, there are nine other calls queued up from dispatch, and he’s upset that he’s the only officer on duty. All of his anger floods out onto me, and I’m on the verge of losing my cool. He’s about to tow my car and wants to know exactly when my sister will arrive. I have no answer.
I probably should have been flustered and anxious, but some part of me has been yearning for this sort of unexpected adventure. I’ll have little control over my circumstances for the next eleven months and I think God was just trying to remind me to let go, roll with the punches, cock my head back and laugh. You can choose to be cheerful through life’s uncertainties or you can complain. It’s a choice. Even I have to remind myself, it’s really that simple.
By the time my brother-in-law arrives to jump my car, the cop seems to be in a better mood. I shake his hand, thank him, and drive away in my mud caked shoes, ready to take on the world.
