The fruit of the Spirit is love . . . – Galatians 5:23(RSV)
We love, because He first loved us. – 1 John 4:19 (RSV)
At first I thought I had a flat tire. I was on my way to Johnstown to take my college-age son to the doctor’s. He’d called earlier, asking me what my schedule was for the day.
“I have a list of things to do,” I said. “Why?”
“Never mind,” he mumbled.
Turns out he needed a ride to the doctor’s office because he couldn’t shake a weeks-long bout with congestion and persistent coughing, and his car was in the repair shop—that is, Dad’s repair shop, with possibly a blown motor. My husband had driven to Johnstown two days earlier to bring it home and, hopefully, fix it or get it fixed. At our expense, of course. Most college kids don’t have the money it takes to fix cars. At least, ours doesn’t. He barely had enough to keep it running.
So I put aside my do-list, gathered the makings of homemade chicken soup, stuffed my checkbook in my purse, and headed for Johnstown. That’s what parents do.
It was on the other side of Northern Cambria that I heard the whoomp-whoomp-whoomp. I pulled over, put on the four-ways, and got out. None of the tires, though, were flat. But as I walked in front of my 11-year-old Explorer, which boasts nearly 164,000 miles, I heard what sounded like little stones hitting the inside of the hood. I checked the gauges—all were showing normal readings. The sound soon ceased, and, after checking the gauges again and listening to the engine, which sounded like it always does, I was on my way.
That evening, with half a tank of gas less than I had before my unexpected trip and $57 more on my credit card (for medicine—that’s what parents do), I arrived home. My husband popped the hood, examined the engine, then came and got me.
“Look.” He pointed to the belt that runs the engine and just about everything else.
It was split in half—but lengthwise. Although half the belt was twisted up and useless, the other half still held, running the engine and getting me home safely.
“You ran on prayer. He scratched his head. “I don’t know how that held.”
Or how the broken half didn’t twist around the motor, stopping everything.
“My Father,” I said, the warm fuzzy reaching from my heart to my lips, “takes good care of me.”
You see, that’s what parents do.
Dear God, thank You for Your awesome love for and care of me. It’s exceedingly abundantly above all I can ask or imagine. Amen.
Read and reflect on 1 John 4:7–21.
For more on God’s love, read Romans 8: 31-39; Ephesians 3:17-20; Psalm 139; Psalm 103:11; Isaiah 43:4 … gee, the entire Bible is filled with His love for us!
From God, Me, & a Cup of Tea, Vol. 3, © 2019 Michele Huey.
One thought on “That’s What Parents Do”
Just so beautiful. Thank you Michelle.