On Wednesday night around 10pm Rusty called and told me his car had broken down about 20 miles outside town. He told me he was driving home from work and he felt his car lose power so he coasted into the McDonalds parking lot. His car wouldn't start so he was going to call his dad and see if his dad could come get him since Norah was already asleep in her bed.
And do you know what I did in response? I laughed. Because I am a mean person who delights in the troubles of others.
Well, that and because I have been trying to explain to Rusty that we really need to get a new car because one of these days one of ours, probably mine, is going to break down and leave someone, probably me, stranded. I have been trying to tell him for weeks that it doesn't make sense to put money into a car that we know is only going to last a few more months (if we are lucky), a car that has only one mirror, three working doors, a barely functioning hood and a front bumper that is tied on with rope. I have been trying to explain to him that I do not trust my car and that I would like a newer one, one that does not shake when it hits 60 miles per hour. I even went so far as to explain to him that I am not going to drive my car out of Siloam unless I absolutely have to because I just know that one of these days it is going to break down and leave Norah and me stranded at the McDonalds in Tontitown. But, the man did not listen to me because he is frugal and thrifty, which I do appreciate except when it keeps me from getting a new car or ice cream.
So on Thursday when I drove Rusty to get his car towed and taken to the auto shop he started talking about looking for new cars and I looked at him and said, "I like to think this is God's way of telling you to listen to your wife."