Good Good Father

I love to go anywhere. I love to see new places. If there’s a training or an event, I am there.

In September tickets went on sale for the IF Gathering in Austin. I was hoping to get a ticket for my friend, Becky. They are living between Texas and Kansas and I thought it would be fun to road trip together. Before I got online I prayed that if God really wanted me to go, I would get a ticket. I did. It sold out in fifteen minutes before I could Becky a ticket. I sat on the ticket praying for the last few months.

I prayed that if it was his will he would open the doors and if it wasn’t every door would shut.

My first prayers:

If you want me to go, help me find someone to ride twelve hours with. Help me to find very cheap lodging so I don’t have to spend much money and if I am supposed to go let Barney be okay with it.

I posted in the facebook group a month before and asked if anyone was driving from Kansas. I met Jessica, who lives in Hutchinson and we decided to ride together. She has a baby the needed to go with us. Becky said I could stay with her sister in Austin, but Jessica thought logistics would be better if I stayed at her great uncles with her. I told Barney and he said I should go. Ok, God. Maybe I am supposed to go.

All of those prayers were answered, but I still wasn’t sure if he really wanted me to go. Because I am immature I asked some more.

My second set of prayers. These were very detailed. If I am supposed to go:

Have mom just offer her car, with amazing gas mileage, so I know you want me to go.

It’s a really long drive and I had to work that day. I prayed that there would be a way to break up the drive so I wouldn’t be so tired.

Super Bowl Sunday, a week before we were leaving, my mom told me to drive her car so I could save on gas mileage. Ok, lord. I think it’s supposed to happen, but I really want to be sure.

Jessica messaged me that we would stay in Oklahoma City with her sister-in-law Thursday night and drive into Texas early Friday morning. That meant I only had to drive six hours after work and six hours the next day. I was incredibly thankful.

But it wasn’t enough. I got really detailed.

The Monday before we left I prayed that if I was really supposed to go that Jennie Allen herself would comment or favorite one of my IF Gathering  posts on social media. I know that is really immature. I just wanted to be ‘double extra for sure’.

I went out to dinner that night with my Little Sister from the Big Brothers Big Sisters program and when I got home there was a question posted in the IF Gathering facebook group about what we are expecting from the week. I posted that I was not sure I was supposed to go but so far God was answering all of my “But this” prayers and opening every door.

Jennie Allen tagged me and said, “Christi Gibson Miller maybe you are really supposed to be here.”

Shut up.

 I cried. I got down on my knees and put my head in my chair and cried.

Ok, Lord. You opened every door. There must be something really big you want me to learn, something you want me to hear.

“Whether you turn to the left or to the right, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, This is the way; walk in it. Isaiah 30:21

I got to Jessica’s at sevinish and we left. I needed to get gas in my mom’s car. It’s a diesel. The first gas station didn’t have diesel. We drove down the road and pulled and finally found a gas station with diesel.

Jessica had a card for that station with fifty cents off a gallon. Score!

We drove around the street and onto the ramp and the car died. It wouldn’t budge. I tried restarting and it wouldn’t turn over. I called my dad. He told me to hit the road side assistance button. I told the guy what happened. He said they could tow my car. 

Dad told me to call him back when I heard.

It was all moving really fast. My insides were shaking.

Lord, I thought you told me to come. I thought you said this was the way.

I finally called the gas station.

“Hi, I just got diesel on pump one and now my car is acting up.”

Umm, ma’am that was not diesel. You just put E85 gas in that car. Go ahead and gasp.

“Jessica, I need to step outside to make a phone call.”

Shaking with a lump in my throat and tears stinging my eyes, I called my dad.

“Dad, I put E85 gas in your car. I thought it said Stop This Is Diesel like the other pumps do and it said Stop This Is Not Diesel. I screw everything up and always cost you thousands.”

He kept telling me it would all work out. My mom was in the background and she just wanted us off the highway and safe.

Standing on the ramp in Wichita in the freezing cold in February, I wanted to throw up. Tears were burning my eyes and this friend, I just met, was sitting in the car with her six month old baby.

“Lord, didn’t you say I was supposed to come. Lord, didn’t you open every door. Lord, I don’t know what to do”.

We sat on that ramp for an hour. The tow truck came and Jessica’s husband graciously drove us to Oklahoma City and his sister drove him back. We took Jessica’s van. Every one of her family members I met, I felt the need to reassure them I am not an idiot.

I think we do that when we mess up. We’ve sent this message of do’s and don’ts to the world they think that’s what we are about, when it’s really grace. Hang around me long enough and you’ll know I need a lot of it. When I do mess up big, I feel the need to explain to everyone and really, only one opinion really matters.

 My heart was sick. We had a full day of travel the next day and it was not going as planned. I felt like a failure.

I ruined my mom’s car with a little over six thousand miles on it. She’s had it three months.

I didn’t want to go anymore. I put on a good face. My mind and heart were racing. One was praying the other one was worrying.  

I couldn’t believe it.

 I stupidly googled it. One site said it would cost a couple hundred dollars with a flush. Another site said it could cost up to eight thousand dollars if the motor was ruined.

I was in the balance of a couple hundred dollars and several thousand.

We had great conversations, but my heart was constantly pleading, “Please, Lord. Come on I need to know.”

My dad text me just thirty minutes before we got to Austin and to our conference.

“The car will be ready Monday morning. I will put you up in a hotel Sunday night and VW will come pick you up. It’s all going to be ok.”

My mom text me to tell me it would only be $235, not thousands.

We found our parking place and made our way in. We were finally in Austin.

The speakers were amazing. The heart to equip women where they are is exciting.  It is what I crave. I took notes and more notes.  I feel like we are finally getting past the need to be perfect and on to creating sisters among women.

That Friday night they sang a song I had never heard before, Good Good Father.

I lost it. Tears.

I have a Good Good Father.  My dad would not let me pay for that car. He paid for my room. He was more worried about my arrival than the mistakes that I made.

I broke the car. I thought I was double checking but I was putting in the wrong gas. My dad lessened the impact. He put me up in a hotel and made sure it was a good part of town.

I thought God was sending me to Austin so I could learn some mind shattering information from these ladies. I did, but I learned it on the side of the road, in the cold, when I put the wrong gas in the car.

I am never too far from Him. I am never too far for Him to make some calls and brace my fall.

He doesn’t berate me when I call on him in the midst of failure. I can search for him in amazing moments, but he will speak to me in the hard moments. Jesus paid for my sins. He prepares a place for me. He looks at me redeemed and not of my faults though they are many and frequent.

They love me anyway. ( Even though I cost a great deal to love)

We made it back to Wichita late Sunday night. I was scheduled to leave as soon as the part came in on Monday. Check out was at noon. I packed my bags and worked from the lobby. I was thankful for the lesson and thankful for the weekend. Jessica was the best twelve hour road trip stranger I could have met. Her Great Uncles was a gracious host in his beautiful home, but  I was ready to be home.

My mom called me at 1:00 and the part hadn’t come in. I was going to have to stay in Wichita for another night alone. I just wanted to go home. Tears ran down my face as I tried to book another room. I was embarrassed, but I just wanted to go home.

I worked out. Went to my room and ordered healthy Chinese for two. I was scared, ok? I didn’t want anyone to know I was alone.

I started to turn on the TV. I am a closet Real Housewives fan and they had Bravo. I had this nudge in my spirit to shut the TV off and read my Bible but I thought maybe I was just tired.

We have had enough lessons. Right, Lord?

My phone rang. It was Karen, my friend, I used to go to church with her. I loved our conversations about the Bible. She would be a Faith sister if there ever was one.  I have seen her at her job but we really haven’t talked in years.

“Christi, I couldn’t go home until I called you. I am driving from Kansas City to St. Joe and God has you heavy on my heart, girl.  I just want you to know that whatever you are going through God loves you. He cares about you. I had to call you.

I couldn’t speak. I just cried.

What are you doing, Lord?

I shut the TV off. I found that song Good Good Father on iTunes and played it on repeat for two hours. I got on my knees on the hotel floor and just prayed.

I was sure God wanted me there for a reason. I made small talk at breakfast trying to find “The One” he had me there for.

Nothing.  I was sure there would be someone he would place in my path that I could encourage.

It was time to check out. Volkswagen called and they were sending a driver.  They told me he was eighty-four and wasn’t in a hurry so I didn’t need to rush. I saw him pull up and fumble with his phone trying to call. I hurried out the door to save him the hassle.

We had five minutes in the car. If you know me, you know I rambled that story in ten seconds because I think everyone wants to know my business.

He said, “You just hit my hotspot. You see, I am pastor and my dad was a pastor. I think God just wanted you to rest. He had some things to say to you”.

 I told him about my friend, Karen, and crying on the floor, putting the wrong gas in the car, how God showed me in the midst of my mistakes he was a Good Good Father. How I had been so burnt out on church and church things. How I craved real community. 

I have written three blogs just pouring my heart out to God. All of my years of church piled together. My words helping me to work through the pain and lay it all on his lap. Church is family and family is messy and can be painful. I wanted so badly to love the church again. I am not talking about my current church but the church as a whole. (Just clarifying because I don't want to answer seven messages from people wanting to know the scoop.)

“You know Jesus wept. You know Jesus got away to be with God and just pray. He got angry about things. Rest is good, Christi, and sometimes he just wants to remind us who he is.”

He shared several verses with me. He blessed me.

In five minutes with Floyd Smith, I know why I had gone to Austin.

Sometimes I think I have to be in the midst of the “special” things going on. Sometimes I am waiting for some big wig to tell me my calling. Sometimes I am waiting for the earthquake and for the fire like Elijah. Sometimes I think I have something “to do”.

Sometimes God speaks in a still small voice in a van on the way to pick up the mistake you made.

He really is a Good Good Father.