Where's My Truck?
January 26th, 2009

Today is Thursday; one of my responsibilities is to read a story to the children in Community Kids, an after-school program offered by our church. I have no idea what I am going to read, but God  will provide.

First, I need to take my truck to get the oil changed. The technician tells me it will take about 15 minutes; that was good because I have 45 minutes before a meeting I had scheduled. I take a seat in the waiting room, read the newspaper, listen to the 700 Club ask for money, and drink a cup of lousy coffee. I peer through the window into the service bay and my truck is still there, hood raised. Boy, they're slow. 

A few more minutes go by. “Surely, they’re finished by now.” Another peek through the service bay window – NO TRUCK! Not bad, just 30 minutes. I have time to spare. I fully expected to hear someone say, “Mr. Owens, You’re ready to go.” Nothing happens. Five minutes later, I'm leaving the waiting room, looking at the bays, and walking around the building. My truck must have been raptured!

“Where’s my truck?” I ask a service attendant. “Oh, he needed to drive it around the block.” “OK?” I hesitantly reply, thinking “Why would he drive my truck around the block?” I pay the bill so I could be ready to go and make my appointment. Ten minutes later, no truck.

Fuming with anger I tell another service attendant, “Look, call the guy and tell him to get my truck back, now!”

Three minutes later, I see my truck pulling into the lot. The technician gets out, smiles and says, “Here you go, Mr. Owens.” Remembering that the television in the waiting room had been on the 700 Club AND remembering that I am a preacher, I bite my tongue. Sensing my anger, the tech adds, “Your engine light came on; I had to see what the problem was.” “Sure,” I think.

Already 15 minutes late, I pull out of the lot to make a left turn onto Brainerd Road. “The traffic light should help me turn left quicker,” I tell myself. I sit at the light...and wait…and wait. Evidently, when I pulled up to the light, my truck wasn’t aligned properly with the traffic signal wires in the pavement; the light stayed red 3 minutes. I backed up my track, pulled back to the street, and the light changes.

I now know what I will read to the children: “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.”  The children are 8 minutes late...I read the story anyway. It's true: some days are terrible, horrible, no good, and very bad.  Kevin told me earlier that I had to write the first blog. It’s 5 o’clock; Kevin hasn’t returned to the office to show me what to do.

Now, it’s Friday morning. I hope this isn’t a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Whatever happened to TGIF? 
Today is Saturday, January 24………….
Today is Sunday, January 25………….
Today is Monday, January 26…………. (96 hours later!)

My first blog; it only took me 96 hours. I’m 60 years old. I don't have many "96 hours" to waste. I wonder if the service technician is named Kevin, or perhaps, David. Anyway, the next time I see him, I'm going to congratulate him on being speedy.

Just for the record - Yes, Lord, I aced that test on patience.

Posted by Bill Owens

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