Trust Me

I learned this morning how much my dad must have loved me even when I was a snotty teenager and he didn't have to.
But in a roundabout way.
We have been working on getting better at reading scriptures as a family lately.
Burke likes to do it in the evening before bed, but wonders why I have such a bad attitude about it then.
(I explained that after a full day of kids, bills, kids, making meals, kids, and shopping I am DONE and ready to fall into bed after we get the KIDS to bed).
We decided to try doing our reading in the morning.
Quite a commitment since Burke leaves for work before the sun rises. (In fact, Adrienne insists we are waking her up in the middle of the night because it is still dark.)
We have tried it all this week and found it to work out much better. They are a bit of a captive--if unconscious-- audience.
What does this all have to do with my dad?

Well, after we finished reading this morning and Burke was gone and we were all lying semi-conscious on the couch, the phone rang.
You NEVER want a phone call at 6:15 AM.
I flew to the handset and learned that Burke was stranded on the side of the freeway. (Remember that post with a 200,000 mile odometer? Yep, it was that car.)
I was to come and pick him up and tow him home in our other registered vehicle (the one with 155,000 miles. It came home from the shop Thursday.)
Grateful that all my children were at least partially awake, I issued instructions for them to be fully dressed, rooms cleaned, and getting their reading done while I was gone.

Then I ran out to the van to head to the rescue of my beloved...
And found an empty gas tank.
Like REALLY empty.
Sigh.
Stopped to get gas...
Then went to the rescue of my beloved.

I found a grumpy and frustrated Burke and a sad, broken-down, previously-faithful vehicle pulled off the road.
Burke hooked up the tow strap and we were just deciding who was going to be in which vehicle when the cavalry pulled up.
Highway Patrol.
With lights on.
AWESOME!
He offered to follow us and make sure we didn't cause any problems as we attempted to get to the next exit.
Gee, THANKS!

Anyway, it came to me to be the "driver" of the vehicle being towed.
A job I had done once before, as I nervously assured Burke this morning.
As a teenager.
My dad had come to the rescue of his stranded and clueless teen daughter.
He told me how to control the brakes and steering when "driving" an incapacitated vehicle as it is being towed.
That was many years ago.

As I climbed in the car this morning and Burke pulled away from the shoulder (with the HP trooper bringing up the rear), I distinctly thought to myself, "I CANNOT believe my dad trusted me to do this as a teenager. What was he thinking? I would never let Nathan do this. I know he would crash into the van. He wouldn't pay close enough attention to what he was supposed to be doing. I can't believe that I didn't crash."

Then I found myself wondering what would have happened if my dad hadn't trusted me, or loved me enough to let me try?

It was a bit of a wake up call for me (literally).
As I teach my chicks how to fly, I frequently find myself clipping their wings. I think of it as protecting them (and maybe my future vehicles ;). But is it really good for them to never make a mistake because they didn't get an opportunity to try in the first place?

Thanks to a loving, trusting father, I was armed with knowledge that I needed this morning at 6:30 AM.
Thanks dad!

Thanks to a loving Father in Heaven, we were able to make it to our driveway before the tow rope broke.
Yes, there was a little prayer of ironic gratitude uttered when Nathan steered the car into the garage as Burke and I pushed from behind.