I’m absolutely delighted and I can hardly wait for my man to fix it up, so it runs properly again. Hopefully, he will teach me along the way. Likely, he’ll take it to someone who knows a lot more about fixing older cars than he does. However, there will be various bits and pieces all throughout that he will be able to do – and enjoy doing – himself. And I want to learn to do those things, too.
Thank you, God, for my man’s safe travels. Help us to repair this Thing to the awesome creativity and beauty that it was designed to be. Help us to sue our talents and skills in repairing it to honor you. Thank you for this opportunity. In your name, I pray. Amen.
Well, jury duty was a success. I prayed a lot about it, and I asked for clear guidance, courage, and the necessary words and judgement from God and the dear Saints in order to do God’s will and to share his love in the world through me, and I do believe they provided it all. I knew I would be selected as a potential juror – one of those God-granted feelings – and I ended up being the second-to last one called, of 80 people (from a total of about 200 folks who didn’t get excused).
But, because I’d known, when there were only five names remaining, I knew not to think I was about to go home. It was just a matter of which number I was. And that was juror number 79.
And juror number 79, despite full intentions not to speak up about things unless absolutely necessary, spoke up a lot.
Mostly, I asked for clarity on things, definitions, to repeat something that had been read aloud quickly (which half the room could not actually read on the far-away screen in small font – seriously, what are they thinking there?? – in the first place). Sometimes, I answered the questions they were asking, mostly when I had a clear answer to share and no one else was speaking up already or had not mentioned what I then added. For the most part, each time I contributed left me chucking to myself quietly afterward and shaking my head. I had asked for clear guidance and the right words for fulfilling God’s will, and it was quickly clear that God wanted me to be seen and heard today.
I was not one of the annoyances – a few people did it intentionally, and several just didn’t seem to have a clue on many things – but I was involved a decent amount throughout the two hours of questioning from the attorneys. By the end of it, I was genuinely wanting to be on the jury.
It was even a criminal case, which I had feared most beforehand. The subject, however sensitive it may be, was a matter in which I truly felt I could see both sides freely. I have had to sort through some serious crap that was done to me in my life, and that people I care about have done. And I have learned to honor that they did what they felt was the only option at the time – no matter how horrible the action may have been or how twisted their thinking likely was – and that people do not necessarily act maliciously when they commit crimes against others… even the really bad ones. Yes, there certainly are plenty of times that malicious intent is present for crimes in this world – the devil’s work is rampant at times. But it is not necessarily there, and that distinction is well beyond being of little importance, and possibly one of the most important aspects of a crime.
Now, the one place where I disagree heartily with the legal system is that people who’s really convicted of crimes rarely get the actual rehabilitative help they truly need to rejoin society as fully functioning, contributing, and valuable members of society. Often, they are merely given fines and/or locked up for a long time, and then released, older and a bit wiser, but not likely healed from whatever caused them to commit a crime in the first place. That, to me, is extremely sad and unequivocally important. However, that set aside for the moment, as there is nothing that would handle it so immediately as to be relevant today, my mind really went in a direction I had not fully expected for today (though, it did not surprise me truly).
Wanting to be on that jury felt odd. I would not be at all surprised if the defendant had done the crime of which he was accused. But I also would believe that he hadn’t done it at all, or hadn’t done it in a sound mind with the true intention of injury that may have resulted from it. But I knew I could see both sides openly, and that I could call out my automatic judgements and biases rather well – after all, I had been doing it since we’d started the afternoon’s questioning.
I had major biases that came up for each of the attorneys present, as well as the rest of the people in the room. And I intentionally let each of those drop, so that I could consider what was actually being offered to me, instead of my predetermined judgements. One side had a good-looking attorney and then a mostly smooth-talking attorney who asked all the questions. Though I fully love my state, I did not trust these young and clean-cut state attorneys. As I thought about it throughout the afternoon, I came up with a clear way to say how I seem to approach everything and everything: I am respectfully skeptical of everyone (and everything). I notice my biases and immediately look to see how things would be different without them. I typically alter my behavior with my thinking, whenever necessary in those moments.
The other side of the trial had an older, somewhat dumpy-looking (due to fat, not any actual unkempt nature of the man – he was quite clean and together) attorney who was not great with technology (but he figured it out well enough!), and a slow-talking and occasionally bumbling attorney who was clearly not the best at switching between reading and speaking on the fly. My natural instinct was to trust the good-looking attorneys and not the not-good-looking ones, to trust the easygoing quick-tongued one and not the slower one. But I saw those biases and did not trust them as truth. They are merely judgements, and do not necessarily determine what is actually true. Like with the slower talking attorney who struggled with the back-and-forth of questioning and reading his notes and adapting to changes – we all learn differently. Anyone can look like an idiot in the right setting, and anyone can thrive and seem like a genius in the right setting. These men are no exception. One lawyer thrives on the talking, the other does not. It does not mean that the latter cannot make a better legal case – just that it won’t have such pretty words and fluidity as the former’s.
So, anyway, having constantly to set aside my judgements had me realize that I not only could be quite valuable on a jury, but that I wanted to be on the jury because I felt I could be fair in my judgements. Even if the man had done the crimes, if the court could not provide evidence in support of it beyond a reasonable doubt, he is innocent in court, no matter if the whole jury were to think him guilty; he must be declared innocent of the crimes. Taking it one step further, no matter the outcome in court, his behavior going forward for the rest of his life will determine for him what happens for eternity for him. Either he will be with God or he will not be with God. Whatever the case, that part is on him in this life, determined by him and by him alone. We have no say in that. But we do have say as to whether the evidence provided supports one way or the other the accusation given to this man. (And, somehow, that realization this morning made all the difference for me.)
In the end, nine men and three women were selected, and they didn’t even make it past the 50s in the selections. So, though I very much expected to be on the jury, they never even got to discuss me as a possibility. I’d briefly forgotten what I had been grateful to remember initially this morning that juries are selected in order, only moving forward if one is denied – a jury could be the first 12 jurors if no denials arise on either side of the case, however unlikely that may actually be. Ours had the first half of the jury filled by juror ten, at which point I remembered how they filled a jury and was bummed out a bit. I likely was the only person released today who wasn’t really glad to have been released.
God granted me understanding and a change of mind, as I very much anticipated, and somewhat didn’t want. Haha
Now, it was perfect that I’d had the duty today, as it placed me near the car dealership. Just as I was leaving, I cracked my windows a bit to let out the hot air from inside the car. I rolled them all back up a few seconds later as I drove out of the parking lot to head home.
And I heard a metallic-like CRACK!
In some degree, the rear passenger window had come off its railings in a malfunction, and would not slide up anymore. I pulled over only to find that the window could slide casually down and down and down.
Not good.
So, I dropped it to the dealership – because this has to be covered under warranty, since I rarely use the window and the car isn’t even three years old – even though they had no appointments available for the final 40 minutes of their workday. The manager was actually helpful and kind to me, though – I’d never met him before, but I had had lots of struggle with agents in the past there – and sent me on my way in an Uber rather quickly, after a free snack and drink. (I had a soda can of V8 that was just veggies with tomatoes, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.) Someone will look at the window in the morning, and they’ll let me know the full situation. Until then, it will sit inside a shop, with window tape covering the slightly open window. It might be a few days for parts to be ordered and delivered. They would give me a free rental car, but only once they know what’s wrong and confirm it is warranty-valid (versus tampering). So, I’ll have to go back to get the rental car, which is rather far from home. So, we’ll see what happens.
Whatever the case, sure glad I had the jury duty summons today, which put me right by the dealership, and sure glad I don’t have the case the rest of this week, so I don’t have to figure out how to get way out there without my vehicle tomorrow.
Phew!
God sure has a way of helping us to find gratitude in upsets.
Heading to my car with my purchases after a quick Costco shopping trip, I notice an older man sitting in the passenger seat of a car, one leg out, like he is waiting. I notice a bit better, and realize the car’s hood is raised. A bit more, and I process that a crutch is holding up the hood. Indeed, as the man goes to the hood to check something and returns to the passenger seat, he is limping. The crutch belongs to him out of need, yet he is having to use it to hold up the car’s hood, for some reason.
I have cold items that will spoil to the point of danger if I take too long, I consider. So, I unload my basket into the car, start the car remotely, as I know it blasts the A/C that way, and go return the shopping car to the stall. When I come back toward my car, I check around the barrier to see the man’s updated situation. He is sitting again, looking tired.
I don’t know much about cars, but can I help somehow?If nothing else, I can drive him somewhere to wait until he can get help tomorrow or something… or something. Just offer.
I brace myself, and then head towards the older man. As I approach him, I see he isn’t only older, but old. I greet him with a bit of nerves, then say to him, “I don’t really know much about cars, but can I help somehow?” He gives a sideways smile and a sort of kind chuckle, causing me to smile, too. As he speaks, I discover that he is actually a very old man.
He first mentions about making it not so hot. As I’m about to offer helping him inside, so he can wait where it is quite cool, he mentions about overheating and that his daughter is actually picking something up right now. I ask to confirm that she should be back very soon. As I ask, though, a man approaches, maybe late 30s, early 40s. He then offers help to the old man.
The man gets up to go show us the situation. I hold up the hood all the way, and I search for the tool designed to do this. Naturally, it is missing entirely. I can’t even seem to figure out where it might have been at some point in the past. The one thing I know decently well about cars, and it is of no use today. Nonetheless, I hold the hood while the old man points and explains and the younger man starts to look at things and talk in response.
Then the daughter arrives with some liquid and a funnel, and I step aside to allow her a place to approach. The old man then holds the hood up, and the young man does the work while the lady helps. Frankly, it is quite awkward just standing there to the side, watching the three of them do stuff under the hood of the car. But I determine that I can stick it out until they finish this, then excuse myself. No need to be weird and just disappear without notice. That idea just felt too unkind and self-serving – it thought so little of others and so much of one’s own discomfort. Even if it were awkward for them, there was still a chance I could be of help, so I would wait. Plus, it wasn’t in me to leave without declaring my departure and saying goodbye, and I wasn’t going to do that while they were so actively and intensely working under the hood together. Plus, it seemed they wouldn’t be very long, anyhow.
So, I waited calmly.
When they finished, the old man started the car. I leaned into it to check the engine heat level. It was in the middle. It had only just started, so it would have been on the cooler side, but its being in the middle was not surprising, considering it had just been overheating. As they closed up shop, I reminded the old man of certain parts he had removed from the engine (like the cover), and he opted to stick it in the trunk (himself) for the time being, as he and his daughter, who, by the way, was very likely in her fifties, got into the car.
The other man and I wished them luck and said goodbye as we both headed back to our vehicles. His had a 10-ish-year-old boy hanging out of it. He had family waiting on him. He had been already in his vehicle when I walked past to offer help to the man. Which brings me to my point.
Sure, it was awkward for me to offer help when I didn’t see what help I possibly could offer. But the fact that I did go up and offer help ended up being the encouragement needed by the person who could give actual help, the younger man with his family. That man clearly was planning to leave, shown by his started vehicle that was about to pull out, back-up lights illuminated. But he clearly changed his mind once I went over to the old man.
So, by the simple act of offering help, I was able actually to help someone, even when I saw no real help I could give. And that’s just really, really cool.
Thank you, God, for helping me to trust my gut and for showing me wonders through that trust. Thank you. And thank you for taking care of that father-daughter today. Keep them safe, happy, healthy, and holy. And the same for the younger man and his family, too, please. Thank you for his help. In your name, I pray. Amen.
My man found himself this evening about seven and a half miles away from the road, on a beach where there had once been a highway that had washed out one too many times, the government had given up on it.
I imagine he was rough-housing it, playing in his SUV on the beach. However, he got far too close to the water, and that beach decided he was going to park it. And so, he was stranded on that beach.
At present, he has been stuck for over two hours, and we have confirmed that the tide is going out, not in, which he had originally thought was the case and which elicited much panic and stress from the both of us. In fact, the tide will continue to go out for another hour+, which is great news.
The guy who works on his car sometimes happens not only to be a specialist on his type of car, but also to be a big-time off-roader who has something like 15+ vehicles, several of which are big trucks. I’ve ridden in one of them, actually. This guy is on his way now to go get my man and his vehicle off the beach. Yippee!
Granted, it’s an hour and a half drive just to where the road ends, plus those extra seven and a half miles on the beach. Also, if my man had mentioned it to me sooner, the friend I asked would have immediately recommended the very guy who is now on his way to rescue my man, and the whole thing potentially could have been set into motion an hour or an hour and a half sooner, instead of at ten o’clock at night…
However, he is on the way and he is the right man for the job, so we are all grateful.
God, please, get both of them and their vehicles safely home tonight and in great condition, please. Please. In your name, I pray. Amen.
Well, we drove three+ hours each way today instead of flying half as much to go visit my grandmother for Mother’s Day weekend. The weather was just too spotty and unreliable, so we drove. The up side is that we got to bring the dog with us. The down side is that my man didn’t get the extra three hours of cross-country flight time he would have gotten if we’d flown. But it was also cheaper driving…
Nonetheless, plans changed, but it still worked out well. We got to stop at Costco for flowers and a hot dog and slice of pizza. Always a good thing on our list. And then we had a great lunch out with my mom and grandma (and the dog), a good time just the two of us with the dog waking around town a bit, and then a good time relaxing st my grandma’s before we all headed back out to go home. All in all, it was a very good day, and I am grateful for it.
Thank you, God, for the family and the love and the safety of today. Please, keep us always safe, that we pursue and fulfill your will by being our best selves. In your name, I pray. Amen.
Today was a success! Yay! Sure, there were definitely some moments of awkwardness, and I also had to sit around and wait for an hour and a half, simply because certain people did not communicate a schedule change to others. However, it all worked out okay, and I even got to walk around the festival for a while with my mom. I also got to sit in a shaded VIP area for a while with my mom and just hang out and rest somewhat. Both opportunities were great and greatly appreciated.
What’s more, my man built almost the whole chicken coop today!! ** So, an extra yay!! Yay!!
Thank you, God, for a successful day for us all. Grant us peace and purpose always, and heal all of us, please. In your name, I pray. Amen.
**I only just a few days ago re-learned – because I definitely knew this before – that it is a “chicken coop,” and not a “chicken coupe.” To be fair, I once read a joke, after having already heard my cousin tell it, that kind of made me mess up my spelling of the word.
Relevant joke that is meant to be said and not written: Why doesn’t a chicken coop have four doors? Because then it would be called a chicken sedan.
Though, the written joke had “coop” spelled already as “coupe,” which really messed me up. Also, I never understood the joke, because it was also worded poorly, instead saying something like, ‘Why does a chicken coupe only have two doors? Because otherwise it would be called a chicken sedan.’ I massively struggled with this version of the joke, because I only knew of chicken coops that had just one door. So, the premise alone didn’t make sense to me. Nonetheless, the idea of the joke is cute and comical. Imagining a “chicken sedan,” whatever that is, as well as a “chicken coupe,” is quite a fun game to play in the brain. Give it a go! Vroom-vroom!
This morning, as we went to a natural park for hiking, her mom’s car went nuts with notifications that the tires needed attention. These are brand new tires. We stop at a gas station. They don’t have Nitrogen (N2), which the tires have. The pressure is acceptable for the short distance we still have to go. So, we stop at a tire place after the hike, and they fill the tires the needed amounts with N2. Yay. Phew(!).
Tonight, we go in my step-sister’s car into the mountains, so I can see the mountains up close. It is great. We then go to a Tim Horton’s, because I’d never been to one, and it supposedly is amazing. No offense to anyone, as it was tasty, but I gladly will stick to Shipley Donuts for all my doughnut needs.
We head home… her boyfriend leans out the open window, as though he is tossing up his Tim Horton’s. “Que pasó, mi amor?!” Something is wrong with the tire. He jumps out at the red light. It’s almost flat, he says. We pull to the roadside once the light turns green (though not very far over! 😛 ).
The tire is truly almost at the end of flatness. Good thing we’d had the windows down to enjoy the great weather, or he wouldn’t have heard it.
He starts to change the tire. The key to unlock the special bolts is missing, though everything else is in its proper place. Perhaps, when someone broke into her car a while back, they also stole the key. Ugh! We can’t change the tire.
Her friends who live nearby show up. They have three spare sets of tools. One of them works as the key. Phew!
Her mom shows up. She’s come to pick me up, because we didn’t know how long it would take, and we had been on the way to drop me off back at the house before they went elsewhere.
There are now six of us – and three cars – standing on the side of the road in Mexico around nine PM on a Saturday. At least we’re likely to be safe with so many people and cars!
Everything gets changed okay, and I help out everything back together in the back, reflective triangles and tire and tools and all (minus the missing key, of course).
Her mom and I go home, as do her friends, and my step-sister and her boyfriend go somewhere to have the tire fixed.
A massive piece of metal is removed. Glad that got handled… goodness. Thanks for keeping us safe. What a tire-ing day today has been.
“We forgot to close the trunk,” he says after getting something out of the car as we get ready for bed last night. “And by ‘we,’ I mean ‘I.’”
Oh, no… ‘When we got the bags out last night?’ In the rain.‘ Yep. So, it’s totally soaked.’ He affirms again. Yikes. We agree to open it up in the morning, if it isn’t raining then.
Fast forward to today. Weather is gorgeous. We spend time playing with the dog in the house while all talking. Great time. We also chase and destroy flies with our wetted fabric napkins. Much success. We go to a much-too-late lunch, have ice cream as we stroll around the old city square. We go to the grocer for things for dinner and tomorrow. We open the trunk to put groceries in it…
We forgot about drying the trunk out. ::massive face palm
It is already sprinkling again.
We get home after work idiocy with roundabouts and something about going a different way on them, in order to unwind from circling so many times to the left… turning to the right…
Anyway, we play in the backyard with the dog for a while, then finally make and have dinner and hang out and start a movie, and we then finally get ready for bed… at which point my man walks outside and takes the rug liner out of the trunk and sets it on the front porch.
Good thing rain isn’t forecast for all day tomorrow or anything… ::facepalm for forgetfulness and distraction today!
Hopefully, it will dry out well with this lower humidity, and the trunk can dry out, too! Fingers crossed!
We were going to a vehicle meet-up tonight, right? On the way home from the gym, I pass this Italian-named mechanic shop and see a gathering of Porches, mostly 911s. My man is meeting his family to play golf at his brother’s somewhat snooty golf club, in celebration of my man’s birthday. So, I send my man a message and tell him there’s a Porsche meet-up at the mechanic place. He replies, ‘Might say the same thing out here at my brother’s club with just the members’ cars.’ 😛
Great start to the day, being silly and all. But it gets better.
As I’m arriving to his house this afternoon, after golf for him and work for me, I receive these messages:
I don’t know what this lesson is, but it’s starting to make me sick with stress from it. It felt like I had been exactly where I needed to be today and this evening and tonight. So, why did someone have to hit the car as I drive home? And why did he have to drive off, as though he hadn’t just rammed his car into this one?
What’s more, why did he have to be a clear stereotype expressed in reality?
I don’t know what to do about it all, but I’m getting really sick of having a new car. Sure, it reliably gets me places. However, it also has cost me more in repairs than the old little blue car ever did. Plus, I’m paying literally thousands more for this one. All just to get ridiculously stressed out every handful of days.
But it does get me places reliably. And maybe that’s the point, somehow.
Somehow…
Things got messed up with school, and they didn’t pay me. Naturally, this happened just after my having to pay this lump sum of nonsense for the windshield repair BS the car dealership put me through. So, that all likely will be rolling into my credit tomorrow morning… they, of course, are providing me with a physical check to replace the digital error… tomorrow morning.
And then this tonight, just as that was potentially about to be solved.
God and Universe, please help me to read whatever this language is, because I’m not getting the message properly yet – I need help.
hannah ananas 