A Long Week... or Two

I felt first as if I had a lot to complain about from these past couple of weeks, which have been very, very long. But God, in His love and sovereignty, has already turned these complaints around.
I went on a youth retreat as an adult sponsor (aka chaperone), last week. Man was that rough! And somewhat demoralizing as I pondered the sad state of the modern American young person. The blessing therein? I was reminded of the wretched little snot I was as a fifteen-year-old (not that I don't still have the tendency...) and was overjoyed to see the cross where Christ died even for some of those wretched, little, fifteen-year-old snots (I'm not talking about anyone specific).
When I got home, I came down with a nasty cold. So my entire last week of break, I pretty much sat around, drooling or sleeping or both. Being sick though, always reminds me of the incredible blessing of health. And it reminds me that I can assume nothing about my future other than that I am safe in God's goodness. It just doesn't always display itself as I might prefer. Other than that, it was a blessing in that I finally stopped walking around constantly on my horribly sprained ankle-and now it's healing!
But today. Today was the worst. I had to drive back to Laramie. That in and of itself is nothing happy because it's been rather a lonely place for me what with me being a "fundamentalist" and all. But two hours from home and two hours from Laramie, my tire blew out. I began the attempt to actually change the tire (on the interstate). But I could not for the life of me get the nuts loose. Then a nice man named Jack stopped and helped me... meaning he changed my tire for me. But also informed me that the spare was really low. No way I'd make it. So I went to the near town (po-dunk) and searched for AIR. No one had any AIR. Every gas station's AIR compressor was broken. It's nuts, I know, but true. And there were no tire repair places open. Apparently, no one gets flats on Saturday. So I went looking for Pamida, I knew they had a Pamida, but I drove the wrong way. After managing to get lost in town Po-Dunk, I found an Ace, bought an air compressor, broke it a minute after starting to air my tire and bloodied up my thumb. (I seem to be unable to stop smirking as I type this.) So I exchanged the air compressor, aired up my tire and drove 55 all the way to Laramie.
And what did I get from this? Contrition. I forget sometimes that the world doesn't revolve around me. Everything went wrong, but I realized, it's not as though I personally deserve any better. Also, I had to praise the Lord over and over again for the nice man Jack and for my dad. Not previously mentioned, I probably made between ten and twenty calls to my father throughout this entire two hour ordeal. And by the time I told him there was no AIR, he and my mom were actually leaving Gillette and heading to Po-Dunk. I'm glad they didn't have to drive the whole way but even gladder that they were willing. If God's love displayed in imperfect people is so wonderful and humbling, how much more His love displayed in His perfect Son. Reminders, reminders. I'm learning.