Roadside Assistance and Rug Making

An odd sound travels up from the back of our Land Cruiser. My husband glances over as he slows the vehicle to a stop. I can’t begin to express my frustration with the lack of stability in our vehicles lately. It’s one thing after another. This may be a made up phrase: “If your car has something wrong—you aren’t going anywhere fast,” but it has been proven true in my life three times in the past few weeks. This time, we’ve run over a large nail in the middle of the road. To make matters worse, our car jack has decided it doesn’t want to work, regardless of the stack of books we’ve piled up underneath it.

So we find ourselves waiting on the side of the road as the sun dips and the cotton candy colors fade into the dark. The kids should be getting into bed after a busy day in town, yet here we are on the side of a village road waiting for a friend to come help us. He arrives and with much struggle, we end up borrowing the spare tire from his van (ours is apparently flat as well) and manage to squeeze it onto our vehicle, hoping it will get us home. 

With three overtired kids buckled up in the backseat, I find myself contemplating life as we drive a painstaking 30 mph the rest of the way home. At this rate we’ll be home in another forty-five minutes instead of the usual fifteen. My husband is creating songs—“We’re on our way home to Koch, to Koch, to Koch”—to the rhythm of the spare tire noises. He’s so good at staying calm and rational in these situations. I, on the other hand, tend to lean heavily into a stress paralyzed state of mind.

If I could describe my current life, I’d say I’m limping along like our vehicle. Like a wrong size spare tire on loan, each turn round can be heard in the ache and groan. Make no mistake, I am trudging on but wondering if I’ll make it to my destination before I’m completely burnt out or worn thin.

The yellow signs for “humps in the road” mock me, but at least they warn me of the unpleasantness ahead. Lately, life has been speed bump after speed bump, and I’ve had no choice but to slow it right on down. How can I find the space for life-giving things in a season of feeling overwhelmed, overloaded, and exhausted? How do I enjoy the ride when I’m not sure when the next breakdown will happen?

I glance down at the bag leaning against my leg. In it holds a new project. I’ve decided today that I will be weaving a rug from scratch using cheap rope and ripped strips of kitenge. A homeschooling co-op activity has now become an obsession in a last-ditch effort for my sanity.

I feel a little joy rise up within and smile. Just a little though, because I’m still annoyed with the two-hour delay. Despite feeling overwhelmed with a house deep into construction, heavy with loss of loved ones passing away, two abrupt trips to North America, a recent home robbery, dogs digging under the fence and multiple vehicle issues in the past few weeks, the idea of creating revives a small part of my exhausted being. Creating keeps me grounded when I can remember to do it. Seeing progression in a tangible way helps keep me focused when life spins out of control.

We turn onto the rocky murram road which marks the final stretch. Traveling down the winding road, with only the headlights to light our way, we move closer to home. With windows rolled down and the cool night breeze blowing, I listen to the sound of that weary tire carrying us on. I also take notice of the frogs bellowing and crickets chirping along to the strange thumping rhythm.

And somehow, I’m feeling grateful.

Thankful for this annoying end to our busy day. Allowing me time to process all the craziness for the first time in weeks, despite the night not going my way. Looking up, I marvel at God’s handiwork glittered across the breathtaking African sky. It reminds me that even when you are hit with abrupt and chaotic twists or turns, he hasn’t left the driver’s seat.

And he is still in control of this bumpy ride.

Proverbs 3:5–6 is a favorite of mine, but I so often forget it when I’m being tossed about. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths” (ESV).

And while he can work for the good in all situations, we can learn to slow down before we breakdown. In my own recent experience, these are a few ways I am still learning how to better care for myself these days.

1. Pull over when you notice something is wrong.

2. Ask for help or some assistance.

3. Receive what is offered without feeling guilty.

4. Take some time to process how you are feeling in your situation.

And, if those don’t work . . . you can always take up rug making.

As we make our last turn, we pass by the corn stalks leaning into the grassy path. As they sway in the breeze, it’s almost as if they’re waving hello and welcoming us back. We have arrived home at last.

How do you care for yourself in hard seasons?

What is one life-giving thing you could do today, even if you are feeling overwhelmed?