The Little Things | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: The Little Things | Previous Challenge Entry
By terri tiffany
08/21/07
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES

Cars in the parking lot, keys in my purse, receipts on my desk – it’s the little things that confuse me the most. Or so it seems that way since I moved into the female classification of menopause. Unfortunately, my husband doesn’t think my occasional mental lapses are as humorous as I do. He still prefers cold milk from the refrigerator – not from the trunk of our car.

A year ago, I worried about new wrinkles, sagging thighs and a flat stomach to match a picture of me taken twenty years before. I was certain a few trips to the gym would even everything out. I cut carbs and ate more lettuce than a wild rabbit lose in a vegetable garden. Although my fifty second birthday loomed, I was making headway.

Or so I thought until the day I walked out of Ross’s with a new outfit draped over my arm in one of those bags that shouted “I got a deal.” My car was no where in sight. I ordered myself to breathe – not wanting to attract any undue attention to my plight. My cell phone found its way into my hand. Speed dialing kept me alive for the moment.

“Honey, I’m in a meeting. What’s the matter?” My husband’s work voice greeted me like the clerk I’d just left behind. What could he do anyways? He was an hour away and would only tell me to call someplace like AAA or maybe my daughter who lived on the other coast. I flipped the phone closed.

The parking lot held approximately one hundred and twenty cars not counting the delivery truck parked in front of the restaurant three doors down. Surely, my car still waited for me out there in the sun now baking the sidewalk that glued me in place. I forced my sunglasses over my eyes and formed a plan – as clear as one as I could manage considering the circumstances. My home was twenty miles to the west and the bank thermometer read ninety five degrees. July in Florida, of course, why couldn’t I be stranded in rural Pennsylvania after a church social?

I glanced into the sky – the usual afternoon bank of clouds formed to my right. I had approximately a half hour to find my car or return to Ross’s and outfit my entire family for a year. My feet dragged to the first line of cars – up one row – down another. “Please God,” I prayed, after the third turn with no car in sight, “Let my car be in the next aisle. I promise I won’t complain again about the lack of a working CD player.” Obviously, God figured I needed some sweat equity to help with my previous prayer to lose that extra stomach weight.

Like a vision in a mirage, my much missed Toyota found me – nestled between a Hummer and a UPS truck. If the pavement hadn’t been blistering, I would have dropped to my knees. Instead, I glanced around to be sure no one saw my apparent relief and slipped the key (found four minutes later) into the lock.

I’m thankful reaching out to God isn’t as confusing as are some of my life stages. Although I might struggle with some drawbacks from aging, God is only a prayer away – not a parking lot.

PREVIOUS ENTRY | NEXT ENTRY
SUBMIT YOUR ENTRY FOR THIS WEEK'S CHALLENGE

The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.

Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.