Thank you Melissa for reminding me that I HAVE NOT SHARED THIS STORY YET!!!
Moves do that to me.
I loose track.
My hairbrush (still missing)
My sewing machine (like I have needed it or something!?)
My checks (seriously, spent 45 min's looking for them yesterday only to find them in THE SAFE because before we moved I thought it would be good to put them somewhere SAFE that was traveling with us! so so safe that I couldn't even find them. go me.).
My AWESOME GOD STORIES!
and on and on.
Remember this? (The van story. Thought we needed a van, were going to take our time, God said, 'nah, let's do this now, here ya go'. $10,000 under it's value. Loaded, back windows, leather, sunroof, all that stuff I wasn't even looking for but secretly hoping for? That one.)
The plan was to fix a few things up on the Suburban and then sell it on craigslist or something like that.
We took it to a shop to get an estimate for all it's owies (wow, I AM a mommy!).
Owies = $10,000.
$7,000 more than we still owed on the dang thing.
Um. I was blown back for like 1/2 a second but I then I remembered that God knew that # before we even took it to get looked at, He knew it when He told us to get a minivan, He knew it when He provided the minivan so I knew He HAD this.
I was still sweatin' a little just not knowing what the plan was but I was fully confident He HAD a plan.
Right? You had a plan, right?
Jake did some googling and decided to do almost all of the work himself putting us back $600 instead of $10,000.
Oh. Except that part about where Jake worked 12-13 hour days at the Pentagon. Right.
Never mind that part.
So, a few of the parts were ordered/sent in to shops to be fixed when we got the orders for California.
now the pressure was kinda on.
But there was a plan.
There really was.
I was still sweatin' but still knew.
I wasn't 'worried', just very actively curious. Been there?
There Jake was, about four weeks before THE move, out in the driveway, replacing a window motor.
Pieces of the 'burb laying all over the driveway and yard, window duck taped the frame to keep it from falling down and shattering, bumper kinda hangin' off ((I might have tried to accidentally rip it off in a parking garage once!? maybe?)), NO instrument panel, because it had been sent off to be fixed at a factory.....
AND UP DRIVES THIS BLACK CADILLAC.
A big ol' dude steps out of the car,
chats it up with Jake for minute,
I get nosy and come out to see what this is all about
(that might be normal in the south but not really in Virginia so um....it was out of place and required my presence.)
I come out right as the guy is handing Jake a card and offering his services to fix the bumper.
OH...AND HE JUST HAPPENS TO BE IN THE MARKET FOR A SUBURBAN AND HAS THE EXACT AMOUNT IN HIS BUDGET TO BUY ONE THAT WE OWE ON OURS....
There was no for sale sign.
It would be like asking someone to come be a supermodel for them and all they'd seen of them was what they looked like after a mud run.
I mean, really!?
He drove away with a promise from us to call him when we'd thought about it.
Um...more like, when Jake thought about.
He drove off and I LITERALLY started dancing in the driveway like a mad women.
I knew it right then.
THIS was the plan.
The plan was that some grandma would need a BIG and SAFE vehicle to cart her grandkids around for all their activities and that they wouldn't have the $ to pay for what they wanted (all fixed up the Suburban would have been worth way more) but that they'd find a fixer upper...enter our Suburban...that once fixed would be perfect and they'd find that car by having her husband drive through our neighborhood one Sunday afternoon and just stop to chit chat and find out that we were actually selling and needed to do it fast and that he'd have the exact amount we needed.
Dance. Dance. Dance.
Jake= embarrassed that his wife was dancing in the driveway but also reveling in what had JUST happened.
God has just single-handedly sold our car.
Just like that.
Like it was no big deal.
Like He'd had this plan allllll along.
A few weeks and a few hours of research later....
The Suburban was sold.
We finished getting the parts back that were sent off, Jake finished a few more repairs but by no means finished them all.
We loaded up the parts we'd already bought, drove the Suburban over to the dude's house the night our packers finished.
He handed us cash for the exact amount we owed.
AND THEN HE LAID HANDS ON US AND PRAYED FOR US OVER OUR MOVE.
I. kid. you. not.
I, of course, was a blubbering mess. Crying, taking pictures, PRAISING GOD.....as were they.
I danced all over again.
I will dance over this story all my life actually.
I mean, really!?
I have teased, ever since, that I now think angels are large, older, Hispanic men that drive black Cadillacs.