Kat's best friend since fifth grade is Christina, a slender young lady with a thick mop of dark hair who stays with us every other weekend and goes with us on vacations. She called yesterday to tell Kat all about getting her hair dyed platinum blond. While I waited for Kat to pick up on another extention, I heard Christina's wonderful, delightful stepdad in the background as he got his first glimpse of Christina's new look.
"Good heavens, Christina! You look like a giant Q tip!"
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Monday, December 3, 2007
Hair-trigger buyer's remorse
At long last, after four relapses and hours and days of online research, comparisons and test drives, we finally have our new car, a 2006 Hyundai Sonata. According to the local Hyundai service manager who looked it over for us, we got an unbelievable deal on a really good car, paying even less than wholesale for it.
Amazingly, after decades of knowing better, it took more than a week of searching and test-driving before Jim and I actually sat down and prayed to find the right car. That morning I found our Sonata. Then, while we were finalizing the loan, our loan officer happily informed us that our new interest rate would drop the car payment about $25 per month because, unbeknownst to us, my-- MY! --credit score was so high. (!!!)
The funny thing is that this did not transpire at all the way I had planned out, with my keen but not obsessive interest of protecting us. My criteria for selecting a car were simple: (1) We had to get it from a legitimate dealer of some kind; (2) it had to have a clear, acceptable Carfax report (clear title, and no wrecks, rentals or fleet vehicles); and (3) Jim and I had to agree about it, without having any of the "catches" that at least one of us normally gets when something's not quite right. Because I had to spend another day or two recuperating from my last (please, God?) relapse, Jim handled getting the hardcopy paper work from the dealer, and then we got the money for it.
Jim went and got it Saturday and we drove to church in it Sunday. Although the exterior is perfect, the cleanliness of the interior and a non-working headlight assembly immediately made me anxious we might have gotten taken. So, while drive to church Sunday I asked Jim to show me the Carfax report after we got home.
"What Carfax report? The dealer only faxed a copy of the bill of sale." (Loud exclamations ensued: "I told you to..." and "You mean to tell me we just bought the one car we didn't see the Carfax on?!!!, and so forth.) Wonderful stuff right before church.
Next morning, successfully holding panic and paranoia at bay, I took our externally beautiful car to the Hyundai dealership. As it turns out, the headlight issue was nothing more than a loose plug and the less-than-appealing interior apparently resulted from an exploding can of Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi. The service manager looked the whole car over, pointed out a few minor maintenance needs, and said that detailing would take care of the interior completely, which I had done immediately. He also opined that the exploding soda probably had been what kept the price far lower than it should have been.
The thing is, if I had seen the Carfax report on this car I never would have given it a second look. Its original owner was Enterprise Car Rentals. But, because I trusted Jim to handle the negotiations and paperwork while I nursed this chest cold, we got a car that is in great shape and has had regular maintenance, for the kind of price family members give each other.
Throughout the almost 20 years of our marriage, every time we've had a need, the Lord has been taking care of us even before we ask for help. It's been entertaining, sometimes even stunning, to see how he uses all the situations in our life-- the pleasant and not-so-pleasant-- to move things into place for our good. It would be good if I could remember this fact of our life, especially on the way to church.
Amazingly, after decades of knowing better, it took more than a week of searching and test-driving before Jim and I actually sat down and prayed to find the right car. That morning I found our Sonata. Then, while we were finalizing the loan, our loan officer happily informed us that our new interest rate would drop the car payment about $25 per month because, unbeknownst to us, my-- MY! --credit score was so high. (!!!)
The funny thing is that this did not transpire at all the way I had planned out, with my keen but not obsessive interest of protecting us. My criteria for selecting a car were simple: (1) We had to get it from a legitimate dealer of some kind; (2) it had to have a clear, acceptable Carfax report (clear title, and no wrecks, rentals or fleet vehicles); and (3) Jim and I had to agree about it, without having any of the "catches" that at least one of us normally gets when something's not quite right. Because I had to spend another day or two recuperating from my last (please, God?) relapse, Jim handled getting the hardcopy paper work from the dealer, and then we got the money for it.
Jim went and got it Saturday and we drove to church in it Sunday. Although the exterior is perfect, the cleanliness of the interior and a non-working headlight assembly immediately made me anxious we might have gotten taken. So, while drive to church Sunday I asked Jim to show me the Carfax report after we got home.
"What Carfax report? The dealer only faxed a copy of the bill of sale." (Loud exclamations ensued: "I told you to..." and "You mean to tell me we just bought the one car we didn't see the Carfax on?!!!, and so forth.) Wonderful stuff right before church.
Next morning, successfully holding panic and paranoia at bay, I took our externally beautiful car to the Hyundai dealership. As it turns out, the headlight issue was nothing more than a loose plug and the less-than-appealing interior apparently resulted from an exploding can of Diet Coke or Diet Pepsi. The service manager looked the whole car over, pointed out a few minor maintenance needs, and said that detailing would take care of the interior completely, which I had done immediately. He also opined that the exploding soda probably had been what kept the price far lower than it should have been.
The thing is, if I had seen the Carfax report on this car I never would have given it a second look. Its original owner was Enterprise Car Rentals. But, because I trusted Jim to handle the negotiations and paperwork while I nursed this chest cold, we got a car that is in great shape and has had regular maintenance, for the kind of price family members give each other.
Throughout the almost 20 years of our marriage, every time we've had a need, the Lord has been taking care of us even before we ask for help. It's been entertaining, sometimes even stunning, to see how he uses all the situations in our life-- the pleasant and not-so-pleasant-- to move things into place for our good. It would be good if I could remember this fact of our life, especially on the way to church.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Other sick bed activites
The other main occupation / assignment I’ve had while sick abed has been to find us a new car, ours having been rendered either inoperable or too dangerous to have on the road. Everyday for the past three months Jim would take off for work in our 1987 Camry sans front end, and I would ask him as I kissed him good-bye if we should increase his life insurance today. He would laugh nervously and head on down to work. That is, until he took the car in to have it looked at yet again. Eddie, our long-suffering mechanic, called him at work and said the fix would cost way more than the car was worth, and by the way, to make sure his life insurance was paid up before picking it up and driving it home. So, now it sits at the curb, like an extra closet for all the coffee mugs, jackets and junk Jim can’t remember to bring inside.
Our Mazda MPV needs a new torque converter to make it through another year before the transmission gives up the ghost completely. It’s also ancient and has the most uncomfortable back seats in any van anywhere ever. Nevertheless, we are fixing the van, deep-sixing the Camry and getting another car that, hopefully, will not turn out to be another beater. I’m really tired of beaters at the moment. I don’t mind having one, but it’s not so good having two. You just can’t take off and go out of town without worrying about what could go wrong and how much more it would cost if it happens in Ludowici or Elberton instead of here in town.
We still haven’t found a car and I’m sick of looking for one. It takes hours to get to the real, honest-to-goodness price of a car, only to discover it's significantly higher than what the salesmen were “just sure” it would be. Oh, but wait! We can have the monthly payment exactly where we want it! We just have to be willing to pay on it for six or seven (!) years. On a used car. Silly us.
Our Mazda MPV needs a new torque converter to make it through another year before the transmission gives up the ghost completely. It’s also ancient and has the most uncomfortable back seats in any van anywhere ever. Nevertheless, we are fixing the van, deep-sixing the Camry and getting another car that, hopefully, will not turn out to be another beater. I’m really tired of beaters at the moment. I don’t mind having one, but it’s not so good having two. You just can’t take off and go out of town without worrying about what could go wrong and how much more it would cost if it happens in Ludowici or Elberton instead of here in town.
We still haven’t found a car and I’m sick of looking for one. It takes hours to get to the real, honest-to-goodness price of a car, only to discover it's significantly higher than what the salesmen were “just sure” it would be. Oh, but wait! We can have the monthly payment exactly where we want it! We just have to be willing to pay on it for six or seven (!) years. On a used car. Silly us.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Keeping occupied while sick
I watched a film yesterday called Two Soldiers, which won an Oscar a few years back for “best short film”. It is based on the William Faulkner story of that title, about honor, strength, and commitment to duty as played out in the strong bond of love between two very backwoods brothers, a 19-year-old and the other just shy of nine. It was set in Mississippi right after the bombing of Pearl Harbor.
While both boys obviously are well formed and strong of character, the point of the film is to show exactly how strong the younger brother’s character really is and what it enabled him to do out of his great love for his older brother. There is no spectacular heroism or sensational event, but rather is about a young boy’s single-minded focus on doing what he believes he should do, without allowing anything or anyone to become a distraction or an obstacle.
It’s really a story about what love for another can do for a person’s faith and courage to step out into the unknown with nothing more than the goal as a point of reference. It’s only 39 minutes long, without sex, violence or any obscenities, and is definitely worth renting, especially for boys.
I’ve seen quite a few movies over the past couple of weeks, having spent huge chunks of that time in bed trying to get over an upper respiratory annoyance that keeps coming back just as it appears to be leaving. Two trips to the doctor and a course of antibiotics later, and I think it’s finally become bored with me. I sure hope so because a neighbor’s visiting mother is staying with us over Thanksgiving--in the guestroom and bath I’ve been using as a hospital. Thank the Lord for Kat and her abilities with bathrooms and kitchens.
While both boys obviously are well formed and strong of character, the point of the film is to show exactly how strong the younger brother’s character really is and what it enabled him to do out of his great love for his older brother. There is no spectacular heroism or sensational event, but rather is about a young boy’s single-minded focus on doing what he believes he should do, without allowing anything or anyone to become a distraction or an obstacle.
It’s really a story about what love for another can do for a person’s faith and courage to step out into the unknown with nothing more than the goal as a point of reference. It’s only 39 minutes long, without sex, violence or any obscenities, and is definitely worth renting, especially for boys.
I’ve seen quite a few movies over the past couple of weeks, having spent huge chunks of that time in bed trying to get over an upper respiratory annoyance that keeps coming back just as it appears to be leaving. Two trips to the doctor and a course of antibiotics later, and I think it’s finally become bored with me. I sure hope so because a neighbor’s visiting mother is staying with us over Thanksgiving--in the guestroom and bath I’ve been using as a hospital. Thank the Lord for Kat and her abilities with bathrooms and kitchens.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Annual self-assessment in light of another life
I spent my birthday sick in bed on Monday. Haven’t celebrated that particular anniversary in bed in a long while, and it was way less than pleasant. There are times when being under the weather is not so bad, if the kids are big enough. You can watch TV or read a book until you feel like taking a nap. You can sip soda or tea or, better yet, hot toddies! It was a good opportunity to catch up on some email from old friends.
One who sent me a birthday e-card was Pam, one of my oldest friends, but whom I haven’t seen more than five times in the last 25 years. Pam lost her husband Jay right after Thanksgiving last year. He was the kind of person everybody wants on their team, at their party, and as a close friend or a family member, and Pam was a large part of what made him such a memorable person. She made him happy. He had a wonderful laugh that I will never forget. In fact, the next time I hear it, I will know I have arrived where I’ve always longed to be, forever.
Pam and Jay’s Jewish son-in-law has decided to become a Christian, to everyone’s joy. He says he wants to do this because of what he saw in how Jay lived his life and faced his death. Jay was not the kind of person to be pushy about anything, especially matters of faith. If he talked about Jesus, it was in the same way he talked about all his other friends, with unselfconscious pleasure and a never-ending sense of expectation about what was going to happen next. Who could resist wanting to know what makes a person live like that and be able to face his own death, though tinged with sadness, with his usual laughter, peace and sense of anticipation?
As successful, loved and respected as he was, Jay also was completely unassuming. He was a peacemaker and, without one’s really being aware of it, he had an ability to inspire others to do, be and accomplish well beyond their normal level, because of what he saw in them. How many people can do that? I sure can’t.
When most of us die, our departure has about as much impact on the world outside our immediate family as pulling your finger out of water. As hidden a life as Jay lived in the grander scheme of American life, his passing was a genuine loss of goodness in the world, whether we knew him or not. Thinking about Jay and his legacy on my birthday was a bit on the riveting side, now that I clearly am headed back to the barn myself. It's probably healthy that I fear I may be more like a finger coming out of water than like my good friend Jay.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Recent good
Two weeks ago my amazing husband was promoted to his departing boss's job. Now he is a department manager and his salary has increased by, to me, an astounding amount! We had hoped and prayed for this and solicited lots of prayers, especially since my job, with the amount of gas needed to get there and back every week, has not helped cover our budget the way we thought it would.
The blanket of peace that descended upon our little family at having our budgetary concerns vanished, literally overnight, has disturbed me a little. I find myself thinking that we should have been this peaceful all along had we really been confident in God's love and protection. It's not like he hasn't done amazing, even miraculous, things in all three of our lives, and we have plenty of evidence that he will take care of all our needs.
My biggest worry over the last three years has been whether or not how I view our needs bears any resemblance to how God sees them. Old struggles, new situations. Now my biggest concern is to get us back on track and keep our monthly spending well below our income. The temptation to go eat sushi for lunch or to buy a really cute blouse for Kat (17 yo, HS jr) still must be resisted, pretty much as though the money still were not there.
In a way, I don't feel like this abundance is ours, even though Leo is earning it. I wonder if I can maintain this perspective on our income, that everything beyond what we need for our obligations and basic maintenance actually does not belong to us, but is for God to use. It's a difficult choice because of the ubiquitous-but-subtle anxiety about our retirement years. The urge is to sock away everything we can, for our future and for our child’s future. But wouldn't that be choosing to let go (yet again) of the very peace and confidence that God has just brought to us in this, his latest gift of generosity?
This most recent exercise in trusting God for our financial needs seems to be over. Do we use his generosity to take care of ourselves in the future, or do we trust him to take care of us again whenever the need arises? Living simply in the midst of abundance and with means is a big challenge, and it’s a new challenge. It seems more important than ever to understand how God sees our needs. I hope I can be trusted with this gift.
The blanket of peace that descended upon our little family at having our budgetary concerns vanished, literally overnight, has disturbed me a little. I find myself thinking that we should have been this peaceful all along had we really been confident in God's love and protection. It's not like he hasn't done amazing, even miraculous, things in all three of our lives, and we have plenty of evidence that he will take care of all our needs.
My biggest worry over the last three years has been whether or not how I view our needs bears any resemblance to how God sees them. Old struggles, new situations. Now my biggest concern is to get us back on track and keep our monthly spending well below our income. The temptation to go eat sushi for lunch or to buy a really cute blouse for Kat (17 yo, HS jr) still must be resisted, pretty much as though the money still were not there.
In a way, I don't feel like this abundance is ours, even though Leo is earning it. I wonder if I can maintain this perspective on our income, that everything beyond what we need for our obligations and basic maintenance actually does not belong to us, but is for God to use. It's a difficult choice because of the ubiquitous-but-subtle anxiety about our retirement years. The urge is to sock away everything we can, for our future and for our child’s future. But wouldn't that be choosing to let go (yet again) of the very peace and confidence that God has just brought to us in this, his latest gift of generosity?
This most recent exercise in trusting God for our financial needs seems to be over. Do we use his generosity to take care of ourselves in the future, or do we trust him to take care of us again whenever the need arises? Living simply in the midst of abundance and with means is a big challenge, and it’s a new challenge. It seems more important than ever to understand how God sees our needs. I hope I can be trusted with this gift.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)