Oh, wait, I know next to nothing about cars.
I drive a manual transmission, however, which I think qualifies me to at least talk the basics. I know that cars drink gas (enough to keep my checking account at a solid $0), you use your feet to make it go, and when you eat french fries while driving you run the risk of getting salt all over your steering wheel. I know how to check the oil – I wouldn’t know what to do if there wasn’t enough, but I can check it! I know that when I keep my RPMs down I can get 40 miles per gallon, and I know that when winter comes around I’ll be spending quite a lot of time scraping ice and snow off of my car, which is more of a Minnesota weather fact, but it definitely relates to Audrey.
I had to stop on a hill today, a steep one. For those of you who don’t drive stick, this means that I have to be very careful with my clutch/gas pressure ratio, otherwise I could kill the car. Or I could rev my engine and make everyone think I need a new muffler. I went with the first option, but, since it was a very steep hill, I killed the car.
It’s one of those things that happens very infrequently, but every single time it happens there is a mean guy in an SUV behind me who honks at me immediately, as if I could speed up the process of restarting my car. Well, I’m sorry buddy. This happens sometimes. I don’t like it any more than you do, but you need to just CHILL.
I talk to the other drivers while I’m driving, and everyone is “buddy”.
Today, while I was driving, I passed a car pulled over on the side of the freeway with its hazards on, and beside it was a man holding a tire. Poor guy must’ve had a flat, and it looked like he was alone.
Begin internal dialogue:
I wonder if he knows how to fix that.
I bet he does.
Is there someone else in the car who can help him?
I wonder if he needs help.
I wonder if I should help.
I know absolutely nothing about changing a flat. I would be of absolutely no help.
Does he have a cell phone?
Who doesn’t have a cell phone?!
Well, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he needs someone to call a tow truck.
Maybe I should stop.
Woah, hold up, I’m a seventeen-year-old girl. I’m driving alone. I’m vulnerable.
But he looks nice, and God can protect me.
Bu isn’t it kind of dumb to subject myself to danger?
But if I don’t, does that mean I don’t trust God?
Am I over thinking this? Should I have just known to stop or not stop?
And by that point, I was past him. Passed without stopping. It wouldn’t have been a convenient time for me to stop either way, because my sister was at home waiting for me to bring the car to her – I was in a hurry. But does that matter? That guy could have been in a hurry too. He could have been on his way to work, and now he’ll be late. People aren’t always going to need help when its convenient for me to offer it; that’s just the way things are going to be. That shouldn’t stop me from helping him.
But then again, part of me wonders if there wasn’t some better-equipped Christian driving down the freeway today. Someone who knows how to change flats and has a cell phone and has great people skills and maybe owns a towing company and could be a better representation of Jesus than I could be.
But then again, God never asks us to do something that He doesn’t consider us equipped for.
And that begs the question, did I say no to God?
All because some guy on the road had a flat.
I’m not done thinking about this.
I’m working on two computers at the moment, trying to transfer the last of my music from Larry (demon-possessed) to Chloe (computer whiz). You can see the two keyboards here, the two mouses, the trackpad, and both printers if you look hard enough. It’s like I Spy!
By the way, if you were wondering, the Twins lost shamefully badly last night.
But we had fun at the game anyways.