Pastries, Poles, and Parrelles

After this week I truly believe that everyday is an adventure just waiting to unfold. Why? Well, let's start with Monday...

I was still reeling from piano lessons where I had performed a song I had sort of remixed myself--while singing it--when I went back to pick up my little brother for school. Upon backing out of the driveway, looking right for cars, there was a sickening crunch!! from the left. Not even six days after getting my licence, ladies and gentlemen, and already my sidevew mirror now dangles off the side of my door like a banner warning all drivers of poles and their uncanny ability to leap out at people. And my little brother, always the optomist of the family, turned over to me stone-faced and said, "I can't believe your laughing. That probably cost like 500 bucks." Yes, I can always count on that kid to yank me back to reality. That's probably why he was sent to this family after me because someone decided I could use a daily dose of humble pie.
And then, still reeling from that, I opened my locker door at school to find a suspicious looking box of pasteries. Taking it out, I find a clever note asking me to the upcoming dance. Chortling to myself, I turned to see the young man in question, his Dad (who's a teacher) and his friend all right there.
Then I went to Seminary, where I tragically discovered I had forgotten my scriptures.

Later that week, we went to the fair where I fell into peer pressure and went on the zipper for the first time... I screamed my lungs out while he laughed his head off and by the time we got off I couldn't move my hands they were tingling so bad. But boy was it fun!!!!

Even later, I washed my poor car with my little brothers and learned the hard way never to give a four year old the hose. (I told my cousin--who's younger than me by three years--and she nonchalantly told me that should be a given. Make that two doses.)

So I was sitting in the car yesturday, staring out the window, and thinking of what to write this week when I began to see parrellels in some of these stories. And, as you can probably tell, I just love parrallels!

The car story, I've decided, can sort of represent us. Let's face it, life has poles...and curbs, and trees, and signs, and, in some cases, garage doors that just seem to jump out at us when we least expect it. We get scratched, scraped, bumped, dented, and broke and there comes the option of going to a mechanic to fix us up. But how many of us actually do it? How many of us are do-it-yourselfers and simply refuse to get professional help? Or do we simply throw 'this worthless peice of junk' in the garage to rot?
This may work in our financial life, but spiritually...not so much. How many of us, wrecked maybe even to what may seem beyond repair, try to shift into drive anyways or simply throw ourselves out? I know I've done it. But oh the joy and ease and comfort that comes from going to the mechanic--the ultimate quicker-fixer-upper for our lives no matter how dented or twisted up they may be. And if you've only knocked off your little rearview mirror than great! The fixing--or healing--process will be a lot less long and painful. If you've downright accordianed yourself, caught on fire, and wore-out your airbags, then all the more reason to go! Trust me, coming unto Him will be worth the trip!

And there's no problem, malfunction, or scratch He can't fix. And there's no garage, in His eyes, worthy to captivate anyone of His unique models.