A Tale of Two Lucys

I want to write a Lucys post.

But so much is going through my mind concerning "the Lucys", that I don't think I could do it justice.

But I think that I should write about it, as it was one of the most important things that happened during my 43rd year.

If you don't know what I am talking about, you haven't been reading much over my way. The Lucys are my lexuses.  I wrecked the first one, and it was totaled. Then I bought another one.

Sounds simple enough. But it wasn't.

The car wreck was point A. Buying the next car was point Z.

And there is a long way between Point A and Point Z.

And looking back at the whole ordeal, which feels a bit like a distant memory now, I understand how much of life has to do with what's going on in my mind, and how much mentality plays a role in things. The battlefield is the mind. Always. At least with me, anyway.

And the whole ordeal bothered me. I don't like to admit that, but it did.

I tend to be a very private person and I rarely tell anyone what's going on with me. I don't keep things bottled up though. I pray A LOT. And that takes care of the majority of things. I tell you there are some things where I don't tell nobody but God.

I seem to be the one that many folks talk to. But I just don't feel all that comfortable talking about what is bothering me. It's rare for folk to just listen, even if they don't understand. Trust me, my feelings have been blown off more times than I can count. I have learned from that in a positive manner, meaning I don't blow people's feelings off. But I really don't have anyone that I cry to without feeling all uncomfortable about it.

And with me, that was the core of the Lucys issue.

Now, back in February 2012, if I am remembering correctly, I bought a 13 year old lexus. Yes, that's old. But I don't like the newer cars, and I don't drive much. And I'd been wanting one since that particular generation came out in 1999, It has been my favorite car since then. So I bought one... for my birthday.

I really liked that car.

I had it for one year and then BAM... I was hit by a tow truck on my way home from work.

His studs on his wheel sliced through the side of my car, in the back by the tire.

And to make a long story short, my car was totaled by the insurance company.

Up until that point I was okay. I was just thankful that the accident wasn't bad, I was alright and not hurt, and that a big fight didn't break out at the scene. (I got charged with the wreck. But folks be tripping in the ATL, with the road rage and shooting over accidents.)  I was thankful there was no mess involved.

I was alright, but a thread of something was dwelling in the back closets of my mind.

And I always pay attention to what's going on in the back corridors of my heart... those things I don't really verbalize to anyone, not even to God.

(And He seems to be particulary interested in those areas, also.Very much so).

Here's my thing: most of you who know me or who have met me in person know that I am one of the most nonmaterialistic people that you will ever meet. I don't care about clothes, handbags, shoes or any of that.  I went through that phase in my 20s, and I am sorry, but these days, I don't get much joy out of those types of things. I don't even like shopping.

But I was upset about wrecking that car... which is a material thing. And I was upset with myself just for being upset.

My issue was, and I was quietly seething over this, was:

I don't have a husband. I don't have kids. I don't have a family. I don't have fame and fortune.

I just don't have a lot.

But at LEAST I had my nice automobile. And LEAST I had something nice.

At least I had that.

And now that was gone. And I was quietly upset.

My sister did well to talk to me. She is the one person who will just let me talk without judgment. I didn't really talk much to her about those feelings, but she has totaled some cars and she was trying to talk to me about it.

I remember having a few tearful moments when I was alone at home with my thoughts. And I remember waking up in the middle of the night one night and having a really horrible crying fit. Just a fit of rage and anger and tears. Personally, I just wanted to sleep through the night, which is a rarity.  Sleep was an escape from the issue at hand: the lost of my car.

I had my little fit. Yelled a little for the sake of yelling, I suppose. I yelled at Oscar-Tyrone for being in my way. I was just pissed and yelling.  And I eventually went back to sleep. And I slept well.

However, I thought about something that next day, or within the next couple of days. It was a light bulb moment of sorts...

Gee.. I didn't pray about buying that car that I'd wrecked.

No I didn't.  If I had to sit and wonder if I did pray about it, then I must not have.

And I didn't like that at all. That's not like me. I pray about everything.

"Oh well," I thought. Now did it mean that was the cause of the accident? Nope.   Not at all. It was just something that I noticed.  I don't believe in God just snatching things and what not. Yeah, I grew up being taught such, which made me frustrated with religion, but it is not a part of my beliefs now.

But I know one thing. I was gearing up to go out and purchase another one.  And this time I was going to pray for some direction.  And I felt a little better about things when I did that. And I was still upset about being all upset over a car.  It still bothers me at times.

Anyway, things happened super fast after that. I am still shocked at how fast things happened. You know, it was to the point where I am still thinking about it all. And it is probably the reason I haven't bothered to write my thoughts concerning it.  I have so many thoughts and theories, too many to even post here.

I got proactive and started looking at cars again. I was going to be picking up my check for the car and I wanted to just start looking for another car.  I'd printed out a bunch of used cars like mine and I was in the process of putting them through an auto history check service. I was interested in a couple, but most were suspect. I remember just before leaving to go home from work one day that I decided that I would take a look in the website I was using one last time before I called it a day. I saw something unusual on the website, and something that I hadn't seen before that day: a car for sale that looked exactly like mine.

Odd, I thought. Very odd.

"That wasn't there a few minutes ago," I said aloud.

I printed out the page. It was for sale through a private seller, which made me shudder, and there was no information (VIN number available). I almost blew it off, but I sent the seller an email. I wanted the VIN number so I could run it through the system. The seller sent the VIN number, and the next day, she and I had a conversation about it and arranged a test drive.

She lived only a couple of miles from my job. That was cool. I could meet her somewhere on my lunch break.

And she pulled up in the at our meeting spot. The car looked exactly like the one I totaled. It was gold like my car, but with more bronze undertones. Unless you'd seen my car a lot, you would have not been able to tell the difference.

Once I got in the car, there was no difference. The interior was exactly the same. Even the wood paneling was faded in the same places.

But what really shocked me was what happened on the 15 minute test drive. Me and this woman who I have never set eyes on in my life had a conversation that for some reason was like salve to the brokenness in my spirit over the loss of the other car.

I don't know if that is the best way to put it, but I don't know how else to put it. I tell you, I can't really even put it in words.

It wasn't as if we talked about much. She was just going to let me take the car and drive it around and come back later or something strange like that. I was thinking, maybe this white woman don't want to get in the car with a negro. All I know, I wasn't taking that chick's car and driving nowhere by myself. So she accompanied me on the test drive.

But the conversation... it was just a general conversation. She talked about the car, and answered whatever questions I had about it. I told her of how I was all busted up over totaling my car and she told me of how she had switched cars with a friend for a day and the friend totaled her car and to this day she was a little sad every time she saw a car like that one. She even told me a funny story about her and her dad going to go buy a car from a man with a bible on the front seat, and how the car sale was a scam and the title was all jacked up and stuff.

That was funny. Because if I see a bible on someone's seat out in the open, I'm always suspect. Bad I'm that way, but I am. It's like you want me to... trust you automatically or something.  Stop it, I say.

The conversation was what it was. We even talked about some racial stuff.  That's the first person that I've talked to who feels like I feel about different races: You have to take people at face value. There is a very small minority (1 or 2 percent by her estimates, and mine too) of any race that is suspect. I have always felt that way myself . I don't want to miss out on stuff just because I have a problem with someone's skin color.  Not sure how that facet of the conversation came up. Much happened in 15 minutes of time.

But I tell you, I felt much better after that.

And it was to the point where I was talking about it in my prayers. "I don't even have to buy the car. I just thank you for the conversation, Lord."  I actually thought I'd gone and seen the car just so that God could set up a conversation of sorts, for whatever reason. I just felt A LOT better. I was happy for that. I didn't even have to buy the car.

Of the numerous conversations I had last year, and I had too many to count,  that was the most important conversation.  I even had a moment of  thinking - "Maybe that was an angel."

O_O

The bible does say be careful who you entertain, because you never know, it could be an angel. Hmm.

But I did purchase the car. I think I got the check for the car on April 1. I bought that car on April 4th.

And it was if it just fell into my lap. Shocked the cheese out of me. I was O_o for a few days.

Same car. Same year. Same color.

Just that fast.

And what really blew my mind was that I found out that that car had came off the assembly line directly after the one I'd totaled. The only reason I even found that out is because I had both insurance cards sitting in my wallet and I wanted to make sure I didn't throw the wrong card away... and I noticed that the VIN numbers were similar. A little bit too similar. A few hours of looking into it, and I found out that it was the one right after the other one. This type of thing is only important when you're buying high end luxury cars. If 50 of the cars are made, you want to know which one you're buying. The first off the line is the most desired, etc. So my car came off the line right after the other one.

And that really blew my mind.

The lady that sold me the car had NO idea why she posted the car when she did. She said that she could've posted it as much as a year prior, but she didn't. I think she was just as shocked.

That was a shining moment of my year. I am still thinking about it all, because it was a bit mysterious to me.

I know one thing, and it's a pattern with me: after some meltdown or moment of angry in prayer, when I just come out and say how I truly feel about a thing, really strange things happen, REALLY fast, to rectify the situation. And I mean FAST. Totally unexpected and in a whirlwind type of manner.

And Lucy Jr. was one of those things.

I learn something about myself in those times. I am human. I hurt. I cry. I have moments of anger. I hide these feelings well enough, but sometimes it all comes out in my prayer life.

Feelings, feelings, feelings. Questions marks galore.

But I know a couple of things to be true:

My faith must go past my feelings. 

My faith must go past the question marks. 

And once that happens, interesting things happen.

This was so important to me. I will forever be thinking about it from so many different angles. I really think the original Lucy was my "Ishmael" - something that I just went out and did myself.  I think the second Lucy was my "Isaac" - something God set up for me, and the way it all went down, it was without a shadow of a doubt.

And I feel funny saying that, because like I said, I am not a material girl. Not in the least.

But you know what's interesting? I have to touch that car, and it's a reminder of God's goodness. A physical reminder, no less. If I would go out to the garage to get something from the deep freezer, I had to see or go past that car. If I was going to drive my other car, I had to walk out the garage past that car to the other one. And most importantly, whenever I drive the car, I think of how it all went down. And there was an interesting forerunner, a foreshadowing of sorts, that happened right before the car issue...



A fence repair in my yard. One I didn't do. Just like the car, I have to look at the new piece of wood in the fence. And it's in a place where I have to see it every single day.

So I think about Lucy and the fence daily. They are symbols of some sort. It has served to jack up my faith a few notches. Quite a few.

This helped me much. I know that God hears me. And most notably, He sees beneath what I choose to pray about. He is well aware of all those back corridors of my heart, where I keep things hidden and locked away. It's made me a bit open with myself about my feelings, and I have the courage to examine them a bit more thoroughly... and pray about it.

God took care of the material, the tangible... something I'm not overly concerned with.

How much more will he take care of the things that truly concern me- the immaterial and the intangible?