Since finishing my final shift at work last Saturday, Ash and I have been assimilated into a whirlwind tour of Ontario, saying our hellos and goodbyes to various friends and family members before our impending departure for Brazil. We ate 'merican appetizers in Port Huron, enjoyed multiple packing and unpackings during a brief stopover in Cambridge, raced through the Brazilian embassy in Toronto, took advantage of much family generosity in Orillia, went backpack hunting on Sudbury, and spent a weekend enlightening ourselves to the deeper meanings of "campfire odor" on the banks of Blind River.The good news is at each stop both Ash and I were very blessed for the good times we were able to enjoy. The bad news is that not all these stops were in geographical order, resulting in much back and forth venturing and much coin given to the gas vendors. But can I really complain about travel woes, knowing I am about to depart for halfway around the world, yet am spared from the plethora of anxieties aspiring missionaries faced in previous millenniums? Nevermore!
No, I have no complaints to give regarding travel. Only heartache. And that not even for the vessel we take, but for the one we leave behind. [Sigh], I worry for my poor car!
As one could likely conclude from an hour's observation of our beautiful '97 Chevy Cavalier, (or a 15 second conversation with me), I know basically nothing about cars. Reciting the make and model actually comprises a frightening percentage of my total auto-knowledge. See, the best thing about a used car is that they come considerably cheaper. Even better when they come free from a family member, already aptly christened "The Sanctification-mobile". If you remember ATOM from the movie REAL STEEL, you'll respect that the triangulation of "Outdated", "Punching bag", and "Unstoppable" still amounts to a winning combination. In like manner, the Car demonstrates an unbiased aptitude for both new and reoccurring problems, yet always with a stiff determination to pass all mandatory tests, get us there safely, and remain [reasonably] road worthy.
I've heard before of the special bond one often forms with the "First Car", so I suppose it's not so strange that it has taken on a sort of "Pet" status for Ash and myself. Perhaps this is why I have taken to describing its ailments in far more "organic" terminology. So if you hear me describe how our car is in a coma, stiff jointed, flatulent, or (as it currently is) down with a nasty cough and reoccurring bladder problems, you know where the mindset's coming from.
With our 3 month departure so imminent, the future for the dear Chevi remains clouded. Our deep hope is that enough will be leftover in the bank to pay for the needed repairs so that we'll have wheels to come home to in January. Yet we know whatever happens, we'll be in good hands. We were 4 months away from getting married, penniless, carless, and clueless, when God provided this wonderful vehicle for us. We prayed for a used car to last us a year and it has lasted us over two. Whatever happens to us in Brazil and whatever we might come home to, (to drastically paraphrase Hebrews 12:1-2) we'll keep "looking to where we wanna go."