I Was Wrong

Today we had to be at PLS (the rehearsal site for Narnia) at 8am for Katherine to get pictures taken with the 3 other Pevensie children for the publicity poster. We were excited and nervous about driving in the snow and left early to give us plenty of time to be there. The side street to PSL was very snowy and icy, with one car even parked/abandoned in the middle of the road, so I decided to take the advice of the school principal who had said he'd been parking at the nearby McDonald's and walking.

Since we were early and were using their parking space, I treated Katherine and myself to breakfast (a $3 splurge). Then we trudged through the slushy snow and ice to the front gate, which was locked. I should have checked the time, because we were still very early and ended up standing at the gate for a good 20 minutes before Sheri came to open things up.

It was fun seeing the kids get in costume and get their hair done and transform into their characters. They needed a couple rehearsal parents to stay, so I volunteered and got to sit in on some of the sessions and see the kids learn blocking, dances and music.

After awhile, I started thinking about the car and decided to move it around to the back of the McDonald's lot so the restaurant's patrons could use the spot where I had parked, right in front. I trudged back through the snow and slush and moved the car - there were no other cars around and it was the farthest from the restaurant entrance. I went back and helped sweep up the lobby and supervise until almost 3pm, at which time Katherine and Lizzy (whom I was taking home) and I walked back to the lot, only to find the van gone.

I wondered if it had been stolen, but I first went to the McDonald's to ask the manager if they had called to have it towed, and she said the towing company just patrols the lot and always comes in and asks before towing. So we called the phone # on the sign outside and sure enough, our van was towed and it was going to cost us $349.00 to get it back. I asked the man, "Is there not even a bit of grace given because of the snow, since I only parked there because I could not get down the street?" "No," he said gruffly. "You parked right in front of the sign that says if you leave the grounds, you'll be towed. We have a picture that proves it." I thought to myself that he didn't have to be so rude and mean about it.

Once again, we trekked back to the school to call Sovann and ask Sheri to wait until our ride arrived. All I could think of was, "We have that money in savings, but it's supposed to go towards Katherine's braces." Everyone was very supportive - our CYT family showed true concern and compassion, unlike the tow man. I was frustrated because there were 3 other CYTers who parked in the same lot who did not get towed because they parked right in front of the restaurant. I felt punished for being conscientious enough to move my car to an unused portion of their lot. I also felt stupid and could not deny that I had broken the rule.

When everyone else had left, we gathered together and prayed. Then quite unexpectedly, someone (who would like to remain anonymous) offered to pay the fine, "no strings attached," she said. "The Lord has blessed us differently than you, and we can do this for you." At first I was embarrassed, then humbled, then relieved and then angry. "But you shouldn't have to pay anything, " I said, the tears now freely flowing. "No matter how unfair it seems, it is my problem to deal with and I was the one that caused it."

Sovann arrived with the kids (he had to wake Grace up from a nap and get them all bundled up in snow gear and into carseats) and the title to the car, and after talking briefly we decided we would accept our friends' very kind and generous offer. I hope we can pay them back some day, but quite frankly, I don't know when that will be possible. I took the kids home while Sovann got the van out of the impound lot (which also doubled as a wrestling tournament place).

As I was driving home with the kids, I thought about the Narnia musical and the story of "The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe." It struck me that friends were paying a price for us that we really could have and should have paid ourselves, but that would have dealt us an intense blow financially. It was our penalty to pay, not theirs, and just as Alsan gave his life in exchange for Edmund's, it was out of love that they gave sacrificially and not because we deserved or earned it in any way. I was convicted that lately I have come to the conclusion that Christ's suffering on the cross was somehow easy because he was God. But sacrifice of any kind is painful and costly, and may God forgive me for diminishing in my own mind the price he paid for me. Through puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, I shared my thoughts with the kids as we sat in our driveway.

Later, Katherine told me that a friend of hers pushed a wad of money into her hand after hearing of our situation. She said she gave the money back and said, "Thank you, but we'll be OK." I told Katherine that there was nothing wrong with giving the money back, but that part of being in community and living as part of the body of Christ meant having the humility to accept help when you need it. What if the family we bought Christmas gifts for came back and returned all the things we gave saying, "Oh, thanks, but we'll be OK." That would have hurt and robbed us of an opportunity to be Christ's love to them.

So I was wrong in my last blog when I said that giving sacrificially (and loving others) was what Christmas is all about. Christmas is also about receiving gifts and letting others (especially Christ) love you. This has been a very humbling lesson that I am still trying to choke down. You would have thought I'd learnt it this fall when the another family extended grace to us, or last month when God arranged a dream vacation for us via the goodwill of strangers ("Blessing"). I don't like asking for or accepting help; I am very stubborn and too self-sufficient for my own good sometimes. I just hope and pray I learn this time, because I don't know how many more of these "lessons" I can handle.