Warning Lights

Number six hundred and sixty on my gratitude list last week was new tires bought by my husband because he loves me and cares about my safety.  I was profoundly grateful for them last week when I picked my son up from his volunteer work to take him to his driver's ed class on a dark, windy, stormy night.  I tried my best to demonstrate safe driving practices while navigating violent downpours, strong winds, downed tree branches and power lines, and heavy traffic due to accidents and road closures.

We arrived for driver's ed twenty minutes late.  I was exhausted from the drive, but so thankful for my new tires.

Last Monday night after posting my gratitude list I jumped in my car, ready to pick my son up for his next class.  I thought I had planned ahead well, giving myself plenty of time to stop and get gas because I am just the kind of person who is safe and responsible and plans ahead for those kinds of things.

And then I noticed my tire pressure light was on.  And was most sincerely not grateful.

I knew.  I knew the warning light was there for my protection, that having it alert me gave me the opportunity to avoid getting a flat tire on the highway during rush hour or worse, getting into an accident with my son in the car.  These are things I knew.

I also knew the appropriate response should have been gratitude, but can I just say--I wasn't really feeling it.

I was afraid he'd be late again, or miss his class. I had to scramble to get my son picked up and driven to his class, and being the kind of person who likes to plan ahead, I really hate to scramble.  My son's brown bag dinner failed to make the transfer to him, so he went to class hungry.  I waited for an hour and a half before anyone at the tire center could even look at my car.  While waiting, I loitered at a fast food restaurant and ate some of the unhealthiest food known to man.  The man at the tire center said he found the source of the leak (gratitude, anyone?) but didn't have the tools to fix it. And I had a leak in my brand new tires that I had been so grateful for only a week ago!

Tuesday morning found me loitering at the auto dealership, my Monday and Tuesday to-do lists getting punted into Friday at the earliest.  And I could not find the gratitude.

I said the words, Thank you for protecting my son and me from danger.  Thank you that logistics worked to get him to class.  Thank you that he wasn't mad about missing dinner.  Thank you that the warranty covered the repair.

But the words were far from my heart.

So does this mean I am failing miserably at this gratitude exercise, I wonder?  I'd like to say no; it doesn't.  I think it means I still have much work to do, much more to learn in this practice.  Because the truth is, just because I wasn't feeling the gratitude doesn't mean I had nothing for which to be grateful.  The gifts were there; God was still being good to me.  He showed His love in protecting this ungrateful daughter of His.

After all, He turned on the warning light for me.

Continuing to count, continuing to learn:

664.  God’s compassion, kindness, and grace in warning about danger.

665.  Not being charged for repairs.
666.  The gift of time to write a long overdue note to a friend while waiting at the car dealership.

667.  Catching the finish to a Steeler game together with my son late at night, whispering our excitement to one another to avoid waking Dad.

668.  Incredibly talented musician friends willing to participate in daughter’s wedding.

669.  Son and friend practicing Christmas music for luncheon for local seniors, filling my house with sweet sounds and joy.

670.  Watching them play together the next day, seeing them bless a room full of seniors, knowing I have received this year’s Christmas gift from my son.

671.  Hearing son and rock star diva cancer surviving friend practice music together for daughter’s wedding.

672.  Son taking train and bus and arriving safely at sister’s new apartment to share a sibling weekend.

673.  New job for my sister.

674.  Getting to be a part of this on Sunday: