My beautiful blue Impala was getting older. Sometimes I fretted, but then I would give it to God because, like so many other things going on, all I know to do is give whatever-it-is to Him—always the very best thing to do.
Then last month, my father, sister, and brother-in-law gifted me with my dad's car. My father was sad when he had to give up his license, but it seemed to please him to be able to gift it. (I had not realized that he had the joy of giving it twice. ☺) It is another Impala, four years newer with much lower mileage. It's light gray, not my favorite color for Maine winters, but beggars can't be choosers.
Yesterday, my sister-in-law and I drove in freezing rain up into the Western foothills to deliver the blue Impala to a friend of hers who is going to help me sell it. Phew. I don't do the car selling thing so well. John always did that for me in the past, even for many years longer than we were married.
He was good with that kind of thing. He had the perfect location along the main route and a good pull-off place at the end of his drive. I considered doing likewise, but it didn't take me too long to think again. The thought of having people call at all hours and having to meet with them and allow them to drive the car, etc. Nope, it wasn't giving me a happy feeling.
Recently, my daughter purchased a new car...white...have I mentioned this? Perhaps. Anyway, she had had a difficult time saying so long to her well-loved truck. Imagine my surprise when I began to tear up at the thought of leaving my old car behind. Good grief! So I followed my advice to her and thanked God instead for all the years of faithful service it had provided. He is my Source! He deserves all the gratitude.