Blessed & Highly Favored

I am blessed and highly favored.  I’d adopted this mantra years before when a friend of mine demonstrated the technique to me when she was going through treatment for cancer which she cured on her own with God’s help.  Anytime I asked her,

“How are you?” my voice heavy with concern and sympathy, sure that she had been beaten and death was imminent, she would reply strongly, confidently, and clearly,

“I am blessed and highly favored.” 

Ok, I would think to myself and smile.  Let’s do that.  Let’s get on board with the faith that God can do anything.  He (or she) is God after all.

My friend is enjoying full health today and is a producer of a top Netflix series.

My friend was moving and once again needed to downsize the massive amount of furniture that she had acquired since her last move.  She was offering me a brand-new full-sized bed which was perfect for one of my Airbnb units. I was very grateful and jumped at the opportunity, not sure how I was going to get it home since the bed was 3 hours away.  But being very determined and resourceful, I proceeded with enthusiasm and determination. 

I’d bought an old work truck when moving to the property. It had 429,000 miles on it at the time.  After trying to find a person to deliver the bed and not finding anyone, I figured, ok, I will drive to LA, see my mom, get my truck serviced, and then go pick up the bed in Santa Barbara – half a day max.  Once that was done, I jumped in my truck which had just been spiffed up with new freon, oil, and fluids, and was ready for the next leg of my trip.  The truck was a trooper.  She flew up the 101 freeway effortlessly and we arrived at our destination where I had a worker waiting for us.  He and I together broke down the bed, carted it out, lifted it down a flight of stairs, and onto the 2001 pickup that I’d been driving.  I called her Micky, named after the character I’d bought her from.  Loaded up and extremely satisfied with myself, I hugged the worker, handed him some cash, and got behind the wheel.  We drove an hour south, stopped at my mom’s, had lunch, and sang happy birthday to my godson who had just turned 11.  He was growing like a week and this brought me so much joy.  Life moves fast and it is really hard for me to keep my personal connections strong with so many animals to care for.  But I had paid someone to watch the ranch so I was free to enjoy the afternoon. 

Filled with joy and overflowing with love for this little human that I’d known since he was in his mother’s belly, I participated in another rousing round of “Happy Birthday” and “Cumpleanos Feliz”.  His mother, my beloved Alma, smiled and looked on.  As they began to cut the cake and scoop out the ice cream, I knew that was my signal to leave.  My abstinence was strong again and I did not want to tempt or trigger myself.  Bidding everyone goodbye I hopped back into Micky and set out for the remaining 2.5-hour drive home.

With the bed securely fastened in the back of the truck bed, I felt happy and satisfied.  The 5 pm rush hour traffic had begun, but it was not too bad since I was traveling away from the crowd and I continued on.  About an hour into the trip, as we began to travel up the grade, my truck began to slow.  I could feel it grabbing and then pulling and lurching as though it had no strength. I had gas. I had new oil. My tires were strong. But there was no denying that I’d asked a lot of this truck today.  We’d driven 500 miles and now there was a load on the back as well. As I pushed my foot on the gas, I felt panic wash over me as I realized that it would be dark soon and I did not have money for a tow truck when I was more than 200 miles from home.  I took a deep breath and I prayed “Lord, please get us home”.  As I prayed, I began to sing the well-known Carrie Underwood song, “Jesus, Take the Wheel”.  I knew that this was my only hope.  I did not dare stop in case the truck would not start again. I did not want to break down in a location, in the dark, in the desert where there were no services. I had failed to bring water and it would be dark soon. I continued to sing and pray and listen to the motor of my truck. I turned on the hazard button, moved to the slow lane, and continued to crawl home on the lonely two-lane highway.  I purposely kept my speed at 30 miles per hour and let the eighteen-wheelers go around me.  The drive that should have taken two hours, took three, but I eventually saw the turn-off to my home and breathed a sigh of relief.  This was yet another example of god’s love and confirmation that he was always with me.

My F150 Wonder truck now has 469,000 miles and is still ticking. God’s love and faith will take us through anything.  Remember there are no accidents and no mistakes in God’s world.