The van is dead

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Not good, huh?

When I cancelled our cell phone contract (by the way, NEVER sign a two-year contract. It will come back to hurt you), I found out that we had to give a 30-day notice. The way it worked out, we won’t have extra charges on our account, and we’ll have service through the 28th. I made a mental note of the date and went on with life.

I was very thankful that our phones still had service last night.

On Stephen’s way home from work, he called me to ask which account he should get gas from. Since I pay bills, he wasn’t exactly sure how much money was in each account. I keep him up-to-date with things, but he wanted to be sure.

Moments later, he called me back. “The van died.” I got this odd, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Our van is old – it’s an ’89 – and it has over 240,000 miles on it, last I checked. I love this van (Betsy the Big Blue Van, lol!), but I have been wondering when it would die. Really, it’s old, we drive it to death…and we only have one vehicle now…

I got off the phone and cried.

When I spoke with Stephen the next time, he reminded me of a recent Sunday School lesson. When trials come in our lives, how will we handle them? You can choose how to react; it’s your choice if you pass or fail. I’m thankful for a husband that’s able to remind me of things like that; it was very reassuring and calming. I needed that.

It was such a blessing that Stephen had his phone with him. He was able to call me and make arrangements for someone to come pick him up. If he hadn’t had his phone, he probably would have had to walk to the exit to call me (collect?)…which would have taken forever…and gotten me really worried…

Thankfully, our pastor was down here in our town, so he and his dad were able to go pick Stephen up and call a tow truck. They were also able to find a vehicle for Stephen to borrow while our van is at the mechanic. Almost immediately after they dropped Stephen off, the phone rang. Stephen had forgotten to leave a door unlocked, so they had to come back to get him, run back to where the van was (parked on the side of the interstate, no less), and unlock it so it could be towed. Oh well.

The pastor’s wife called me a little while later with a question for me, and was able to tell me that the van had indeed made it to the shop – our pastor passed the tow truck on his way home.

So now we wait. I’m praying it’s not something big or expensive. If it is – God will provide – but I’m praying it’s something small. Stephen wondered if maybe it was the fuel pump, based on the way the van acted when it died.

Unfortunately, our trip to my parents’ house for Bug’s birthday next week is now cancelled…