From: The Back of an Uber

I got rear-ended Saturday. Sitting on the exit ramp off of Ellington and Douglas, waiting for my turn to well…er, turn, some guy spun off the interstate and just so happened to ding me of all people.

I’m not saying I deserved it any more or any less than another person. In fact, of all people to hit, I’m probably the one you’d want to! I didn’t throw a fit or fight back (not that I would’ve won). I didn’t throw my hands up in the air or make any wild statements. I was probably too nice looking back! Sweetly rolling down my window and checking to see if I could pretty please see his insurance papers.

For the most part I smiled and laughed at the situation as my friend, the guy who hit me and I waited for the cops to arrive.

Until today.

Today, I cried. The insurance the guy gave me was bogus. The cops still haven’t filed the report. And as far as I can see, there’s no sweet rental car waiting to take me to work while I figure out buying a car in this low-supply market. So today, I cried. And not alone.

I cried with my Uber driver who was taking me to work 2 hours early to avoid rush hour prices on my part. I had just gotten through a long text conversation with my Dad sorting through the ins and outs of what the next right thing is when my roommate realized she could not in fact take me to work that afternoon.

I tried to hold it together for my Uber Driver. I really did. But when he asked me how my day was going, well it all just began to spill out. I stifled the tears and swallowed the lump in my throat, but as his questions went on, it got harder. He was kind enough to not look in the rearview as my frustration bled through my words. He had to have known I was just trying to hold it together in his backseat.

Yesterday, I was on the phone with my sister and she was telling me about a situation she’d been praying about where God didn’t seem to be moving. She trusted he was moving, she still felt led to pray. But this didn’t change her raging emotions telling her to be sad, mad and confused.

One of my mentors just texted and said she’s expecting God to give back seven-fold what was taken from me. I laughed when her text came through, because this verse had been highlighted to me all day (Proverbs 6:31). I believe this too! I know God isn’t ok with things being stolen from his children. But none of this changed my tears today as I ran up against wall after wall after wall.

I think often our tears serve as a way of praying. A way of saying, God!! Help! It’d be great if you lended a hand!

I’m not really sure what I’m going to do about the whole car fiasco. There’s absolutely nothing I can do about my sister’s situation. There’s also a few billion other problems like world hunger and social justice where I can’t do too much in the big scheme of things.

Sure, there are baby steps. I’m flying home Friday to get a spare car from my parents which I know most people don’t have the luxury of doing. I’m calling the insurance people on my end and seeing what they can cover. I’m reaching out to friends and getting over the idea of being a burden. But for the most part, I’m crying in the back of an Uber saying, God I could really use you right now. What an unexpected, humbling, beautiful, maddening place to be.