The Twin Cities Rainbow Chaser

moving across the country…to discover what God has in store

_____ is lonely.

on December 18, 2012

As I was kneeling on the cold ground wiping green goo off of my numb fingers, I couldn’t help but feel completely and utterly alone.  My dad wasn’t texting me back.  No one was stopping to help.  There was no one to call.  No one to talk to.  And I was getting my favorite slacks dirty!

That’s where I found myself after school today when I walked out of the building and saw the rear, left tire on my adorable little Jetta flat.  More than pancake flat…crepe flat.  My mind races through the options of calling people, going back into the school, and crawling into my car to hibernate until the time when the tire magically re-inflates.  Obviously, one of those options is completely idiotic: calling someone.  I guess hibernating is also idiotic.  And I was too proud to go back into the school.  That didn’t leave much of anything…besides whatever magically appeared out of my trunk.

As it so happens, there was a spare donut tire in my trunk (not cinnamon-covered or jelly-filled) and a fix-a-flat kit.  Whoa!  I am sure you are wondering how I ended up with fix-a-flat in my trunk, since I’m never prepared for crises like this.  Let’s go backwards a bit…

At Christmas eve celebrations with my mom’s dad’s family, we always have a “white elephant” gift exchange.  One year, I ended up with a fix-a-flat kit.  I tried to get someone to steal it, but no one was interested.  Since that time, it has been in my trunk.  Who knew that it was destined for greatness?

Anyways, back in the present…I read the instructions on the goop…err…slime…about five times before I figured out what I needed to do.  (Please note: I tutor kids in reading fluency, not comprehension.)  And then I began.  During the 40 minutes that I was working, three people stopped to see if they could help.  No one would…there’s not a whole lot to help out with when the process consists of squeezing slime and then airing up.  I appreciated their concern though.

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And when it was all done and I was sitting in my warm car, I called my dad to see what to do next and at that point I had to cry.  During the whole process, I had felt completely alone.  Sure, there were people in the school and people from church who would have answered my desperate cries (the sermon series this month is about family).  But I was feeling too independent and self-sufficient.

Who knew that such feelings would lead to feeling utterly and completely alone?

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