My First Car

Living in Southern California has always called for your own set of wheels and when I was in high school, drivers ed. was a requirement. One semester in the driving simulators and the car, and one semester of health. The coaches taught all of those classes, and the thing I remember most about health class is how to fold a map. You thought I was going to say something else, didn't you? Coach Pence evidently taught a mean map folding class because that's all I remember of the semester I spent with him at Loara High School. Coach Brown taught driving in a real car on a real street, and Coach Chandler taught the driving simulators, which consisted of putting the film on, turning off the lights, and taking a nap. So, all of that to say that by my 16th birthday, I was all set to drive on my own. And amazingly, my folks let me do just that as soon as I got home with my freshly minted license. 

I drove my parents cars for the first year or so, including the AMC Gremlin my dads business had as a delivery car. But it wasn't long before I decided I needed my own set of wheels. I never minded my folks cars, but having to share was a drag and when Gramma decided she needed a new car, I jumped at the chance to buy hers. It was a great one that I wish I had kept.

Gramma was always a Chevy gal. In fact, I remember she really liked Novas, but the one that I managed to get my hands on was a 1967 Chevelle with real potential! Gramma had 29 grandkids, and she usually had one or more of us with her no matter what she was doing. So the first thing she always did with a new car was to put plastic seat covers on them. You know, like those embossed things that were actually put on like another layer of upholstery? So, the fabric seats underneath were pristine. The first thing I did was rip the plastic off, of course! 

She had also clipped a pole or something in a parking lot, so there was a scrape down the side. No problem. I managed to get the money together to get that fixed, and have it painted at Earl Sheib.

The car went from the stock Granada Gold color to a nice shade of copper brown. Then I added mags and wide tires, and jacked that baby up with air shocks in the rear end. It was sweet!! It had a pretty big engine in it as well. A stock engine in the Chevelle was 350hp. Not that I could tell you how quick it got off the line or anything. Of course not............. But when there was a little water in the nice flat cement gutters, it put up a really good rooster tail! At least......... that's what I was told. Sure. 

I have to tell you that I was kind of a nerdy kid. Never really comfortable in my own skin or confident that I possessed any talent. I was never in the cool group and pretty much marched to my own drummer. I wore glasses, and when photo gray lenses came out I got myself a pair of aviator frames. I had no real sense of style, I just thought they looked passable as both sunglasses and regular glasses. Little did I know that the combination of the car and the glasses made me intimidating. A girl in a college class told me that. So, obviously, I wish I had kept the car.......... AND the glasses!!

Acts 27 KJV

16...... We let her drive...

17.....And so were driven...

20.....All hope that we would be saved was then taken away...

Let not the foot of pride come upon me,

And let not the hand of the wicked

drive me away.

Ps. 36:11

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A Precious Pearl

One of the great things about having your own blog is that you can choose what you want to write about. And if someone actually reads it and they don't like it, it's their own fault for tuning in. 

Usually, I tell stories about my childhood and my brothers, or the fun extended family. But I had the most amazing experience in the past  month that I feel compelled to pass on. Here we go.....

The first several years of our marriage, my handsome half was in the military, and his job kept him circumnavigating the globe for weeks at a time. On one of his trips through Japan, he dropped in to Yokota Air Base, and as was his habit, he went off base to do some shopping. Sometimes when he left home, I sent him with a shopping list. That's why our decorating style was "Early American Military Airlift Command." But on this particular trip, he took it in his own hands to look for and pick out a beautiful pair of pearl earrings with which to surprise me. He managed to keep track of them until he finally arrived at home, and it meant so much to me when he told me the story of his time spent being educated by the pearl merchant before picking them out. 

I got a lot of wear out of those earrings for over 35 years. Until about 2 weeks ago. I had been out a good part of the day, and when I was taking my earrings out and getting ready for bed I saw, to my horror, that I still had the stud in my ear, but one pearl had fallen off. Sad, sad, day. I was just heartsick. 

Of course I prayed about it. I can't tell you how many things I've been able to find after asking the Lord to direct me to them. But this was so small, and I had been to so many places. So, my prayer went something like this: "Lord, can you help me find that pearl?  Is that even possible?!?" Yeah. Not one of my prouder moments. I honestly didn't believe it would ever turn up again and they couldn't be replaced, at least not in the same way I had gotten them originally.

A few days later, I picked up a set of 3 pairs of pearl earrings mounted on a piece of cardboard. They were only $4, and even though there was a "little voice" in my head telling me I shouldn't do it....not give up so easily, I went ahead and purchased them. So now I had 3 1/2 pairs of earrings, but only a single earring had a neat story attached.

Well, 2 days ago, my handsome half set a black bag in front of me. And inside was a black box. And inside of that was another black box and it was hinged. See where I'm going?

He had purchased another pair of pearl earrings to replace what I had lost. But his didn't come on a piece of cardboard off the sale rack! I was so humbled that he would do such a sweet thing. So now I had 4 1/2 pairs of earrings and the newest set also had a sweet story attached. 

But the story wasn't over....

On the same day that my husband gave me that beautiful replacement set of pearl earrings, I got a text from a friend. Her home is one of the places I had been the day the pearl went missing. And the only thing in the text was this picture.

This little pearl had survived the vacuum and a family of 5 for 2 weeks. And she found it quite by accident. As soon as I saw the picture, I knew. She had found the pearl I had lost and thought I would never see again. And I immediately thought back to the prayer "Can you even do that? Is that even possible?!?" And I could almost hear the Lord's voice saying "Yeah. I can." And I think there was a tinge of sarcasm there too! The Lord knew where it was all along. And even though I prayed with hardly a hint of faith, He gave it back. I started out with one sweet pair of pearl earrings. Now I had five complete sets.

So. The "moral" of the story? Pray. Plain and simple. Whether you believe He can or not. Pray. Because He hears your voice and knows your heart and just wants to hear from His children. It's not about the amount of faith you bring to the table, it's about a gracious God Who cares about His own and what they're concerned about. He is completely trustworthy.

The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it. 

Matthew 13: 44-46