Last Friday, while Mitzi and I were at lunch with a friend of hers, my husband called in a bit of a panic because he was at a gas station, on empty, late for work (which never happens, and this time was only due to this circumstance), and his fuel door was stuck and wouldn’t open. I couldn’t talk him through any fixes, so Mitzi and I wrapped up lunch quickly and went to help him.
While Ray and I were working to open the fuel door, we could hear this guy walking around asking the people at other pumps to help him. Candidly, I assumed he was wanting money. He wasn’t particularly clean, had no teeth, and had this beat up van with a little dog standing on its roof. Seriously. Every time I heard him tell his story to someone else, I almost kind of cringed at the thought that he’d come over to us next. I was tired, frustrated, short on time, and stressed about getting this fixed so Ray could get to work without any ramifications. Plus, I knew Mitzi can get somewhat anxious in unusual situations, which this was. I hate admitting it, but there wasn’t anything super Christ-like about my attitude.
Then, the man walked up to us.
I could tell my husband was bracing for the man’s story to start. I avoided eye contact. And that’s just so not me. (Ugh. So much guilt in retelling this.)
He told us that his upper radiator hose had broken on the highway. He pulled over and made a makeshift patch with a water bottle (this is when I could feel my eyebrows raise and I decided to actually look at the man). He was barely able to get to the gas station. He started to go on with his story, but my husband interrupted and mentioned that we were sorry but we were in a bad spot ourselves trying to fix his fuel door so he could get to work that he was already late for. The guy stopped his own story and said, “Hang on a second.” He went to his car and came back. He took a flexible card and wedged it into the fuel door, moved it around and opened the door. It popped right open. The same fuel door Ray had been working on for over an hour. Ray just kept shaking his head as he pumped the gas and said this stuff only happens to me.
The man said he was a mobile mechanic. His name was Don. His dog was Sam, named after his daughter who “doesn’t listen either.” He was nice.
He asked if we could do him a favor now. Could we go to the auto store and pick up a new radiator hose and bring it to him? He had called his boss, but he was on multiple mechanic calls and couldn’t get to him for 3-4 hours. This guy would miss his mechanic appointments if he waited that long and time is money. Mitzi and I were happy to take on this little assignment. We went and got him the hose, clamps, and radiator fluid and brought them back to him in 20 minutes. When he saw it all, he exclaimed, “God bless you, ma’am!” (I emphatically replied that He does, continually.) “I wish there were bigger words than thank you! God is just so freakin’ good, man!”
As we pulled away, Mitzi had tears in her eyes. I was grateful for the stark reminder for all of us today, that God gives us assignments all the time and we need to keep our eyes out for those opportunities to be the light in this world. What a fantastic illustration today of God’s BOGOs…bless one, get one…????
