The Timely Lincoln

Written April 4, 2017

So yesterday I'm chilling in the rain on way to work when behold I see a Lincoln ($5) lying in a puddle. Like any judicious citizen, I casually approach and check both ways before crossing it into my dry leather confines. Not a bad start to a soggy Monday, I think to myself.

Hours later, I'm working on a spreadsheet when all of a sudden this damp, dreary $5 begins to beg. Spend me! Use me! Exchange me for coins!

At first, I consider. After all, a brewed boost on an overcast Monday morning makes as much sense as the cents it costs. Yet, after weighing my Starbucks balance, the California veggie sandwich down the street, and the option to pay my flower fund dues, I decide to pass. Perhaps it was the novelty of having cash on me or the satisfaction of beating some lottery-like  odds. Whatever the case, I just couldn’t *resisting urge to make Frozen pun* let it go.

Flash-forward to today and the temptation is real. Unlike the day before, I had no lunch as my weekly tradition of forgetting to make it had come early. Granted, when you're spending the night at your in-laws and you have to switch cars with your wife to have the post-work space needed to pick up son bud and pooch, it makes sense why lunch would be an after-thought. At any rate, I give into my Jimmy John's craving and order a sub online. Problem solved. Appetite quenched. My little Lincoln still snug in its billfold.

Hours later, I'm on course to pick up half my family when suddenly a sinister light appears in the southeast corner of my eye. Alas, the gas light had not only unveiled the brainfart of me not checking to see if Lys had fueled up the night before, but had pierced my realm with only 12 miles to spare.

So like any normal, rationale person on his last half gallon, I channel my inner Kim Walker:

Fuel me up, God. Fuel me up, God...

Ironically, the Spirit goes with Desperation Band and ‘makes a way’ for me to Shell in the nick of time. A close call, but one made nonetheless. Relieved, I saunter up to the cashier ready to check out. But it's here where I make a second disturbing discovery. As I reach into my coat pocket, I sense an alarming presence...or rather…lack of presence that could only mean one thing: my wallet was in my car which wasn't my car because my wife had my car, since her car is the van and the van has Caeden's seat and it was my day to pick him up.

So basically, I'm stranded...inches from fuel, inches from salt & vinegar potato chips...and hours away from the nearest family member being able to bail me out.

Seriously, it felt someone had tele-tatooed the Target logo onto my back.

But then it hit me. Before I had left for the day, I had switched the $5 into my pant pocket...which meant though my wallet was sans its owner, I had just enough cash to buy enough gas to get to Kingston Springs* where I could then turn a $20 check into $20 cash to fuel the 45 minute trek home to Spring Hill. For the third time in one day, problem averted.

So what's the moral of the story, you ask? I could point to many things, but I guess what stands out the most is God always looking out for big and in small, from destiny to daily bread. I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again: how great is our God who knows exactly what we need exactly when we need it and then guides us accordingly by his Spirit. Yeah, I know most of you know that already. Still, it's worth mentioning how affirming it can be to find God in the small stresses of life as it is to find him in the grander scheme unfolding.

I’m sure many of you reading this have encountered similar situations. If so, feel free to comment your story below. If not, I bid you a fond goodnight and happy ‘Hump’ Day!

~ Cameron

*I work downtown Nashville, but have to pick up Caeden from Lyssah’s parents in Kingston Springs on Tuesday’s. To avoid commuter traffic, we then drive 40-W to 840-W down to Spring Hill.

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