Low on Fuel.

The low fuel light came on last night.
I was driving home and there it was flashing at me in the dark.
I was tired.
I was secretly wishing for my warm & cozy bed, with the my red flannel sheets & soft, comfy pillows.
My head was pounding, my eyes were heavy, and I stared at the light.

Memories of driving North on I-5 came flooding into my mind. My dad loved to watch me squirm as the needle on the fuel gage dropped from 1/4 tank to the E. I would beg him to stop at the next exit, while my mom would do her best to reassure me that we would, in fact, make it to our destination with no trouble.
I vividly remember coming so very, very close to running out of gas, but never once did it actually happen.
Each time we came to the "Rib Eye" exit, I knew we would be stopping, and sure enough, we did & our fuel was once again filled to the max.

Why did I worry? Why did I think my dad would purposefully put us in a predicament?
What was it about being stranded that scared me so bad? Why do I still squirm and worry as that needle gets closer and closer to the E?

This morning, as soon as my eyes opened, I knew things were going to be bad.
Mason was crying. Mack was hot to the touch. My throat was itchy and dry.... and I was late.
I had ignored the alarm. I had blocked out the sound of the coffee pot perking.
The clanking of Ian's belt as he carried it into the kitchen seemed distant and somewhat removed.
The realization that it was - in fact - a work day for me seemed to hit about 58 minutes later than usual. Ugh.

Mason wanted to be with Ian. Mack wanted to be held. I just wanted to go back to bed.

The crying lasted at least 35 minutes. The diaper was changed... and then changed again. The clean outfit was soiled. There were no pressed pants. The "Cat in the Hat" hat was missing. We were all low on fuel. The doors to the car were locked. Mason hit the panic button. On. Off. On... off. Ugh. No extra keys.
The diaper bag, lunch box, school bags, camera & phone were thrown onto the ground. I searched for the extra keys, Mason sat in the car asking me "which button" as I tried to explain what to do. (I'm sure he knows... in fact, I'm positive he knows, but why would he want to do what I asked the first time??)
Mack exploded through another diaper, and the clock now read 7:28. I was late. I was in tears. I was low on fuel. Why hadn't I driven the extra 2.6 miles and filled up last night? Ugh.
I felt like this:



It is now 10:00 p.m., and I'm still low on fuel. I never hit empty. The light was on, the engine was about to quit (several times), but God held my hand through this entire day. He pulled me through the valleys. He kept me from sinking in the quick sand. He lifted my head when I couldn't.

Today - my car was the picture of me. The light was on last night. I was given warning, but ignored it. I knew that I should have taken time last night, to iron my pants, to pack the diaper bag, to fill my gas tank with fuel... but I didn't... and today, I payed for it.

The good news is... Tomorrow is a new day!

The gas tank is full.
The diaper bag is packed with extra diapers.
My pants are ironed.

I'm prepared.... and I know I have the One who can fill me up when I'm feeling low right beside me... no matter what time of day, no matter where I'm at... no matter how grouchy and tired I am... He's there!!