Frank J. Buchman

Cowboy • Horseman • Writer

Blessings Come In Disguise

Life is full of excitement.

Yet, it could only happen to a old cowboy.

The computer showed a complicated route over a toll road, while the roadmap indicated it was a straight shot through rural communities.

When we got past the second town, the road wasn’t where the map showed. We went back and received “simple” directions from three tattooed-men smoking cigars.

Despite “Road 19” being “right up there,” we went four miles and couldn’t find it. Back downtown, the fellow pushing his bicycle looked at the map and couldn’t help.

Around the block several times, we came upon a pair of codgers who insisted, “Take Road 199 right across the bridge,” although there were no signs indicative of such.

Already 45 minutes behind, the 45 mph speed limit increased our heart rate. Upon finding the major highway, there was still no sight of the urban community.

Left, straight or right, we went south and finally saw a sign, the first one in 90 minutes seeking our destination.

Once in the city limits, we were still lost, drove all the way out of town and back again to a shop where the woman didn’t understand, but she pointed us north.

Pedal to the metal, and first vehicle was unmarked but suspicious, so we backed off, looked innocent, drove four blocks and then saw blinking red lights in the rear view mirror.

Apologizing for being lost to the big iron on his hip, we were informed our brake lights were dim, and we must provide insurance verification. We handed over the card that was three-days outdated, and that’s a major deal, we were told.

After what seemed forever, the lawman indicated we had to get our lights fixed and prove we had coverage, or the damages would be extensive.

Nodding, we agreed to the requirements, including light-repair before we left the city.

Fellow at the fix-it place revealed: “They’re filling end-of-the-month-quotas.” Then, to the big brick law headquarters, where the nonchalant-receptionist said, “It’ll be a couple minutes,” but really another 45.

At least, they let us go. Three-hour-task required six, and we have to mail the  coverage proof. Despite the rigmarole, we came away unblemished.

Reminds us of Second Corinthians 9:8: “God can pour on the blessings in astonishing ways so that you’re ready for anything.”

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