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10-23-09 (Flight Plan)
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Stephanie McIver
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Oct 25, 2009 17:48 PST
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Steph’s Stuff
10-23-09
(Flight Plan)
It’s an historic occasion. My first column written in an airplane. I
am sitting in the very back row of a United Express jet, heading from
San Francisco to Orange County California. The first leg of the flight,
from Eugene to San Francisco was not as coherent—the coffee place in the
airport decided to close right as we cleared security and I was NOT
amused. I did manage one cup of very bitter black coffee on the flight,
but have not reached my optimum caffeine quotient as of yet this
morning.
Airplanes are a tight fit and this one is no exception. As it is
difficult to type, I am going to save what I’ve written so far and
finish this later in the day—I just wanted to savor this experience for
eternity—I feel so very technologically fabulous right now, but the
coffee cart is on the way back. I’ll finish up later! (written at
11:40 a.m. Friday morning)
Late Sunday afternoon:
When I began writing this on Friday morning, I had no idea the
directions this flight plan would lead us. You may be asking-why was
she on an airplane to Orange County? When did she plan on getting back
to the business at hand—the business of seeing God’s hand in her
life—and relate to how it applies to MY life? I apologize—it had not
been my intent to go three days without touching base with you—but my
best laid plans sometimes go awry when He has another agenda in mind.
I was on a plane to Orange County because my guy had found his dream
car—a bright yellow 2005 Corvette. It had just over 10,000 miles on it
and was in pristine condition. But—it was in Orange County, California.
In order to get it, he had to go down there. He asked me if I’d drive
down there with him and drive his other car back. I love to drive that
car—it is a very nice Acura. But the thought of driving it back by
myself-an all night trip through the mountains was not something I was
comfortable doing. I asked him to find someone else—but he couldn’t.
So he looked up the price of airline tickets, took a deep breath and
fired off an order. We left Eugene at 8:58 a.m.
The private party he was buying the car from was waiting for us at the
airport. She drove us to her home; her husband took him out for a test
drive and he came back in love—with a 2005 bright yellow Corvette. The
husband looked at me, winked, and said, “Why not take HER out for a
little spin?” The car is equipped with a navigation system. They
programmed in their home address and we went off into the California
sunshine. And I fell in love with a 2005 bright yellow Corvette. I
fell in love with the black leather interior with power seat
adjustments. I fell in love with the fantastic stereo—and the see
through removable roof—and the big grin on my guy’s face as he zoomed
around cars on the freeway and maneuvered through winding roads.
We reluctantly returned to the owner’s home—he tentatively made a
slightly lower offer—and they accepted it. A bill of sale was written
up, we googled the map to the Corvette store and were off on our next
adventure.
Dinner at ‘In and Out Burger’ signaled old memories for me and he wolfed
down a double-double with cheese, eying his car in the parking lot the
entire time.
We were on the freeway heading from one on ramp to another when traffic
came to a halt—it was Friday night in Southern California. We were
impatient to get on the road—but after sitting still for about five
seconds, we heard a screeching sound behind us—and then felt a huge
CRASH! He had owned the car for less than three hours—and got
rear-ended by a car full of teenage girls. We went flying up, bouncing
our heads on the roof—I still have a painful bump to prove it. The
state trooper who came to write the report told me that since the
airbags hadn’t been activated, we’d been hit at less than 20 miles per
hour—but it felt a lot harder than that to me! I cannot tell you the
pain in my heart as I looked at his face. He was devastated.
I need to fast forward a bit—we are okay. The car was drivable, after
some kind souls at the Fullerton Pep Boys cut away some broken plastic
underpinnings and straightened out the crushed muffler. In spite of the
damage, nothing mechanical was compromised. It could have been so much
worse—and my respect for him increased, when in spite of his own
disappointment and pain, he expressed concern for the young girl who hit
him.
My sense of God’s protection came around in the kindnesses of everyone
we encountered as we crippled north—the mechanics at Pep Boys’ who would
not accept ONE CENT in payment after they spent over an hour getting the
underside ready for our trip. The friends who prayed for safety in
those almost 900 miles home. The good weather, good music and laughter
we shared as we took turns driving a 2005 bright yellow Corvette that
looks GREAT from the front. It will go in for assessment and hopefully
repair this week.
He was quiet for a while as we drove north on I-5. “What are you
thinking?” I asked. He replied sadly, “It’s not a perfect new car any
more…” And I reminded him that it will be repaired. It is insured. No
one was seriously injured—even on that crazy freeway on a Friday night.
The consequences could have been much larger—more vehicles could have
been involved—but they weren’t. We are home safe, sound and with a new
respect for each other. I also reminded him that I wasn’t a brand new
girl when he met me, but he manages to love me anyway. Our relationship
reached a new maturity level as we weathered our first extremely
stressful situation together—and he thanked me for my calm head. “I
don’t know what I would have done without you. I was so rattled, I
couldn’t even think straight.” I just reminded him, over and over, that
God is in control. He will take care of us—just as He always does.
I was right. We are right on course. The flight plan may have a few
twists and turns we haven’t seen yet—but the Pilot will get us home.
Fondly,
Stephanie
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