You’re about to get more of Jane’s Twisted Theology.
In the past few days, I’ve mentioned that my car came back from the body shop with a dead battery, and that I’ve resumed writing my romantic comedy (1500 words yesterday!). And it’s previously-established that I’m a bit on the lunatic-fringe side of things.
Angel#1: A bit.
Angel#2: That’s kind of like saying the ocean is a bit wet.
Angel#3: Or that Krispy Kremes are a bit unhealthy.
Me: Are you guys quite done yet?
Monday night, as I was going to sleep, I thought to myself about what scene I need to write next in the story for good balance. The main character of these books is an auto mechanic. “I need to send Lee back to the shop in the next scene,” I thought, “but I don’t really have a good car story.”
Most of the auto-disaster stories in the novels come from my own ample experience. My mom is famous for never owning a car made in the same decade. In fact, I think the car we owned until I was 14 actually pre-existed me.
I ransacked my brain for a good car-repair story as I went to sleep.
Tuesday morning, the battery was dead again. Isn’t God good to provide for me this way? I needed fodder for my book, and God pitched in.
I’m kind of kidding. I don’t think God sent the Angel of Automotive Death out to my battery to harvest its electrons with his sharp sickle. (If you’re wondering, the Angel of Automotive Death drives a menthol green 1972 Dodge Dart, the only car with an engine he couldn’t kill. No, I’m kidding — I have no idea what he drives.)
But on the other hand, look how well it’s all worked out. I’ve waited for AAA in warm places, in comfort, and never longer than half an hour. We currently have the money to fix the car. I’ve never been stranded. Not really. I have mechanics I can trust. And really, it’s a small thing to go wrong.
Plus, now I get to write about an adventure of my own, but from the mechanic’s perspective.
My Patient Husband comments that it’s good I didn’t ask for a car-crash story. (Although on reflection, two weeks ago I did get one.) I could have asked for worse, like a nuclear holocaust story. But I know God doesn’t work that way. (God: “Well, I wasn’t going to end the world just yet, but Jane asked, so…” Naaaaah.)
God does, however, have a sense of humor, and if God wants to give me a car-battery story right at the time I need a car-repair story, I’m not going to turn it down.
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Speaking of God having a sense of humor… Right after I finished typing this entry, my ex-literary-agent emailed me with a very bizarre turn of events and used exactly the same phrase. I would appreciate some prayers that God makes this one work out, because right now, I’m too stunned to know what to want.
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