Today marks a week since I called the auto repair shop. We had been stuck in Marion, Illinois since the previous Thursday waiting for our van to be fixed. On Friday they called us early to say they were going to look at it that day. They didn’t. On Monday they called to say they thought they found the part, but they hadn’t. It would come in Tuesday. On Tuesday they didn’t call. When I called them at the end of the day, they said they still had a few more hours of work to do and hopefully it would be done tomorrow.
I was frustrated, to say the least. People who heard the story couldn’t believe the delay. Yet my sense all along was that God had a very specific purpose for all this. While this may have been the work of the enemy, this wasn’t an invitation to take authority and move on. God wanted me/us to do something or get ahold of something. Much like Joseph admitting that God is the one pushing him down the well.
At 11:30 am on Wednesday I called the shop, hoping for the best, but fearing the worst. They told me that not only was it not done, but they were also waiting on another part that wasn’t due until 2:30. Screaming on the inside, I had this sinking feeling in my spirit that said, “Son, if you don’t get ahold of what I want you to do, you will be here another night.”
What ever rope I had been holding on to had long since slipped from my hand. I went to the room I had been in for the past six days and laid down and tried to quiet myself. I had to hear that still small voice. I needed something, but I didn’t get it. All I thought of was using Facebook to invite others to listen with me. Admit my need and invite others in.
So I did. I posted an update with the opening, “Ok. I need some help…” , and then asked for prophetic inklings that I could press into. Then, I waited.
As I quieted myself and continued to press in, I felt a peace, a sense of accomplishment, like I had done exactly what my Father wanted. Really? That was it? A public admission of a need for help and a declaration that I no longer believe what I believed a few years ago is what God wanted?
A couple hours passed and I continued to check Facebook for any other words, but none came before the shop called to say the van was fixed.
That was really it. God wanted my humility and my boldness together. I am not to live in fear of asking for help or fear of being rejected by the Church who likes to separate themselves from those whose journey toward the Truth is different than theirs. It doesn’t seem like much, but apparently God feels it is worth a week in southern Illinois.