We have all test driven cars. There is a family story that tells the tale of my mother in law going for a test drive in a new car. She ultimately said no. “The engine smells like popcorn”. While living in North Carolina, a co-worker of Mr. Right, was on a test drive in a very, very, fancy, schmancy car. While on the drive, it broke down. The quick thinking salesman said, “now you will be able to experience our excellent road side assistance”. Despite the salesman earnest effort, no, there was no sale that particular day. I have said no thank you to color, weight of doors, difficulty with getting in and out in a lady like fashion, size……….one van, I could not reach the dashboard………..one car I felt like a little plump girl squished into a clown car.
Yesterday, for yet another trip to the hospital, I test drove “the” quilt. I am a bundle of nerves & wobbling mess and for some reason that translates into me being cold. I wrapped up in all the fabric on the way to the appointments. The day quickly went from bad to worse and then some. The day and I spiraled out of control (if I ever had any control to begin with). Five hours later, I folded myself back into our rental car (oh did I mention we are on week two of a rental car? Terrible car accident, Mr. Right is fine now and our car is being repaired as I type, hopefully).
I will say, it is a well constructed quilt. I twisted, tugged, pulled and pummeled the fabric. I sobbed and sobbed and spilt tears all over it. I twisted my arms around and around and covered myself up to my neck with it. Today, as I glance over at it, she looks as fresh as a newly picked daisy. Good news, the test drive went well. She handled beautifully. The fabric felt wonderful and comfortable under my hands. It wasn’t exactly magic, it just helped me make it through the day. Maybe that is the magic of a quilt? It helps when you need it most. No fanfare, no music, nothing high-tech. Just pure comfort no questions asked for as long as you need it. Pure and simple, enough fabric to wrap around me and feel loved. Loved. Just for a moment in time, not scared, or angry or mad or nervous or jumpy or worried or frightened. Just comforted and loved.
Yesterday, I fell apart yet again, as I was saying goodbye to the lead surgeon on my team, “In real life, I am a much nicer person. I behave properly and can communicate without tears, and I try to be a thoughtful (yesterday, I did remember to pass out two thank you cards) and kind person. I think you would like me more, if I wasn’t sick.” He of course, said all the right things. He did say, think about bringing your own pillowcase and girl pajamas and your own blanket for your first hospital stay next week. “Blanket” to him meant an old worn, warm, cozy blanket. What I heard was “think about bringing your own pillowcase and girl pajamas and your own QUILT for your first hospital stay next week.
Today more ugly stuff. Tomorrow, horrid stuff and a four-hour procedure. I am not sure a pretty, girly, lovely, quilt would be welcomed in the Nuclear Medicine Lab. I know I will wrap it around me for the car trip there. As I am equally sure I will wrap myself inside the quilt on the drive home.
I don’t need to test drive a husband. I will keep mine thank you kindly. He is tired and nerves are strung tight, yet he keeps our family and faith going forward. I can’t see clearly and I am questioning all of my beliefs. There is no need to test drive your faith when life is smooth and easy. You most certainly test drive your faith when times are horrid. I feel so scared and on very shaky ground and desperately seeing Grace. Mr. Right is full steam ahead, He tells me he has enough faith for both of us. He says we don’t have to “test drive” Grace. It is given to us freely anytime we want it. I have to believe him. I am just hanging on to him, our faith, and a brand new test driven quilt, for dear life.
“The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.”