To ‘b’ or not to ‘b’

‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Rev 21:4

Some mistakes are understandable.  If for example, I had dyslexia, it would understandable if I got the names of two garages mixed up because the letters were similar.  PB auto is similar to DP auto in the dyslexic brain.  Though only mildly affected, I have a tendency to switch letters and numbers.  Over the years I have learned how to set myself up for success but when I was younger it was more difficult. 

When I was a child I viewed letters as confusing objects I needed to learn to in order to read.   Having a relational bent this meant I quickly anthropomorphized the entire alphabet.  I was one of the few children in grade school that thought of the letter “p” as a “d” that had gotten tired, fallen over and given up on life entirely.  ‘q’ and ‘p’ were virtually indistinguishable had it not been for ‘q’s best friend ‘u’ I would never have been able to tell the two apart.  Speaking of looking alike, ‘b’ and ‘d’ were identical twins that wouldn’t stop dressing alike.  I hated those guys. 

It was complicated.

It’s still complicated because if there is anything I have mastered, it is the art of complication.  Take last month, when a road trip took me home to visit family.  It was a lovely summer visit, cousins everywhere, ice cream consumed in vast quantities and daily swimming excursions for anyone who wanted to tag along.  Wonderful despite the fact I put a lot of miles on my aging van which is why I occasionally get work done in Canada at P&B Auto when I’m on holiday.  Intending to take the car in, I called when we arrived at Grandma’s but the garage was too busy to see us. 

When I returned home to the US after my trip, my mechanic called and made an appointment to look at my car.  I didn’t remember calling them, but the fact they phoned me convinced me I must have called them from Canada to deal with the issue upon my return.  (**This was a ridiculous mistake.  Put in pin in this, it’s important.)  I provided all the relevant information and the part was ordered.  They would see my van in two days’ time.  Have you met my mechanic at DP Auto?  His name is Dale.  He is kind to me despite the fact I know absolutely nothing about cars and keep putting my van in peril.  He is patient with negligent car owners. 

When my schedule went sideways a day later, I decided to drop my car off at the garage the night before the scheduled appointment.  Dale is flexible that way and I was sure he wouldn’t mind.  I pulled up to the garage and waltzed in the door.

“Hi Dale!  How are you?  I hope you don’t mind but I’m dropping off the van early, I can’t get a ride back tomorrow morning.”

Dale looked up from his desk. “Hi.”  He looked confused.  “Oh, no it isn’t a problem.  What exactly are we doing again? “

“Wheel bearing.  That construction zone down the street, remember?  You ordered the part for me.”

“Right….” Dale paused and still looked perplexed.  “Okay then, can you write that down for me and we’ll get it done.” 

v Scribbling down the information, I wondered if Dale was tired, he seemed off his game somehow.  He generally knows when I’m coming.  I finished with the pen, put it down and handed over my keys.  “Thank you sir.  You’ll give me a call tomorrow then?” 

“Sure will.” He smiled and waved me out the door.

“All done?” my daughter asked as I jumped in the car.  “Yep, but Dale seemed confused. I wonder what’s up.”  I shut the car door and we started home.  A few minutes later, my phone rang.

“Hi Karen?”

“Yes, I’m here!”

“Hey the part for your van came in so we will be ready to go first thing in the morning.  Can you get it here by 7:30?”

I was confused for a fraction of a second before a cold wave of dread smashed into my psyche, dread followed by mortification.  I muted the phone and screamed in agony.  My daughter, who is used to me but doesn’t understand the depths of my talents, looked at me in surprise. “Mum what?”  I continued to groan and writhe until the voice in my ear said, “Hello? Karen?”  What followed was a desperately embarrassing phone call where I confessed to my Canadian mechanic P&B Auto that I wasn’t actually in Canada anymore and would not be bringing my car in the following morning.   Remember that phone call a couple paragraphs back?  It wasn’t my mechanic in the United States DP Auto calling; it was my Canadian mechanic P&B Auto.  I didn’t catch it because in my dyslexic brain, the letters B, D and P are highly interchangeable. Dyslexia is the gift that just keeps giving. 

I had made an appointment with my Canadian mechanic thinking it was my American mechanic.  This meant two things: 1. My Canadian mechanic now thought I was an idiot and 2. I had just waltzed in and given my car to Dale to be fixed without an appointment!  No wonder he seemed so confused.  Steeling myself I phoned Dale and left a voice message explaining the situation and apologizing for dropping off a car without an appointment. Every time I played the situation over in my mind I winced, how could I have gotten their names confused?  What was I thinking?  It was an uncomfortable evening.

The next morning, I phoned Dale to explain myself.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t realize that I had your garage and garage back home mixed up.  That was so rude.  You must have wondered what on earth I was doing.”

“It’s not a problem.  These things happen.” Dale replied.

“Do you need me to come get the car?  Do you have any time this week?” I was still feeling foolish and cringing but tried to put it behind me. 

“Actually Karen, I do need you to get the car.  It’s just… I’m closing.  I got a diagnosis… it’s terminal.  I’m shutting the shop.  I’m going to stop working.”

In that moment, everything shifted.  One minute I was feeling self-aware and foolish and the next I was stunned; overcome and lacking the words.  “Dale,” I said, “I am so very sorry to hear this.  Do you have people around you?  Do you have medical help?”  We chatted for a few minutes.  A new and weighty reality settling over us as we discussed what were now irrelevant details.  A couple hours later, I was walking up the driveway to the shop.  Dale was sitting behind the counter waiting.  He stood up when I walked in. 

He looked leaner than last I saw him a few months ago, I didn’t notice it last night.  He looked at me and smiled.  “Well Sir,” I started speaking slowly.  “I’m deadly embarrassed I made such and idiot of myself, screwing things up like this, but I’m really glad I get to see you one last time.”  I breathed deeply, not knowing what you are supposed to say to someone who is dying. I looked at him and found some. 

“I wanted to thank you, for your work and your ministry.  It isn’t easy finding honest people.  You have really blessed the community.  You made getting  my car repaired so much easier.  Your integrity and hard work have been a remarkable gift.  I’m so very sorry this is happening.  I wanted you to know that I think you are ending your business with excellence.  It is so hard today for small businesses like yours.  You have done such good work building all of this.  Thank you.  Really…Thank you.”

His eyes filled with tears and so did mine.  We chatted some more about his property, his plans, his health.  He asked me if I wanted him to back the car out of the lot and I said yes.  It would have been just my luck to try to back it up and to run into something.  He laughed and grabbed my keys off the counter.  Exiting the car he opened the door for me.  I shook his hand, “This is a hard goodbye Sir.  I pray your last days will be filled with peace and deep joy.”  Overcome, I gave him a quick hug and jumped in the car.  “Thank you Karen.  I know who I belong too and I know where I ‘m going.” 

“Amen.” I said, smiling, I blew a kiss and drove down the drive.

It was a very strange 24 hours, spiraling from acute embarrassment to obtuse sadness. 

So I’ve been thinking this week about the things I get confused.  The way unimportant issues get identified as serious ones, is similar to the way I mix up the letters b and d.  I get confused and think how I am perceived is more important than the composition of my character.  Strangely the best way to get priorities straight is to remember everyone is on a road that ends in death and sometimes you get to say good bye and sometimes you don’t. When I remember my days are limited I am more likely to stay focused on what is important.  So I’m praying for those of us who are overcome by embarrassment or failure.  That by God’s grace we would remember that life is a gift too precious to be wasted on excessive self-consciousness.  Instead, we might keep moving, eyes off trivial things and focusing on the love that makes our lives worth living. 

God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being… Acts 17:27-28

xoxKaren

PS. Thank you for the photo Heidi

PPS.for more on Dale's awesomeness check out Isaiah 61:3 Feb 2018