Some big magic that I have worked, two years in a row, has been with my car.
In 2014, the car I was driving was on its last leg – or wheel – and I didn’t know what I was going to do. The repairs needed – estimated at several thousands of dollars – were many times the value of what it was worth and I didn’t have the money or the ability to finance the repairs. I did some big work around it – all sorts of research and praying and hoping and affirming and clearing and working and scraping together of funds – and at the last minute, when things were looking really bleak, a loved one offered me the use of their extra car, then went a step further and gave it to me as a gift. I was blown away and so moved and so grateful!
With that gift, came some hefty repair bills, albeit nowhere as large as what was looming before me with the other car. I spent a few hundred dollars to get it to pass emissions and inspections and it did, just barely, with the warning, “These other items will need to be fixed within the year, or it won’t pass next year.”
Around March 2015, when I got my tax refund, I spent around $500 to do the first round of repairs, promising that the other $600-1000 of repairs would be done “as soon as the money was available.” Meanwhile, I kept ignoring the “check engine light” that would come on periodically and then turn off. Every time it turned off, I sighed and heard myself think, “Oh! maybe it’s not really broken.”
High hopes.
I kept watching that light and watching the days tick by on the calendar. I’d build up half of the needed money and another fire would erupt somewhere that would need to be doused by the emergency fund. I kept watching that light and watching the calendar flip and began to panic as we grew nearer to December, the month my tags were due. In November, the “check engine light” never turned off and I knew that it would not pass as long as that light was on. I was frantic.
On December 4th, the light went off as I was driving my daughter to school and I screamed so loudly in jubilation, she nearly passed out. I dropped her off, idled for a few moments to make an online reservation at a testing place, and drove from campus toward the business. Two miles from them, the light came back on. DAMN IT!
It failed the test, of course, but the cute young man said, “If you can bring it in when the light is off, it’ll pass.”
Every single time I got in the car and turned the ignition, I said a prayer. That light stayed on. I watched it like a hawk, praying it would go off. The light stayed on. Then, it started to tease me. It would turn off, but it would be at 6:30pm, thirty minutes after the testing place closed. Or on Sundays. Every Sunday.
On December 30, I was sweating it. I knew it was my last day to pull off a miracle because I wouldn’t be off work on New Year’s Eve before they closed. It had to be that day! Every time I got in the car, I said aloud, as I had done many times for 30 days, “Please turn off long enough to get that test done.”
Every time I got in the car, that light was on and I told myself, “We’ll figure it out. Something will work out.”
At 5:45pm, I came out of Dancing Crane Imports, where I do intuitive readings on Wednesdays. I got in the car, said my little prayer, started the ignition, closed my eyes, said the prayer again, waited a few moments, opened my eyes, and sighed. The light was still on. Damn it!
I drove out of the parking lot and out on the busy street, heading home, teary eyed.
Moments later, I glanced down and the light was off! Oh glory be!
I flipped a U-ie as soon as I could and headed back to the testing place, ripping into their parking lot at 5:55pm to find their lights off and the “closed sign” on. Noooooooooo!
I could see the young man who had helped me inside, finishing with a client so, against all odds, I tried the door and it opened. I nearly burst into tears. He smiled at me, recognizing me, and said, “Light off?”
“YES! Just a few minutes ago! It’s the first time it’s been off this month during your business hours!”
He pulled it in, finished the test, came back out, and said, “Here ya go. It says ‘pending,’ cuz the stuff is still broken, but I can pass a ‘pending’ test.”
This time I did cry, as I thanked him and left the store, clutching my “test passed” paper as though it were a bar of gold. I got in the car, turned on the ignition, sent up a prayer of thanks, and put the car in reverse to back out of the space. Before I applied pressure to the gas pedal, I happened to glance down at the dashboard at the very second the light blinked back on.
It hasn’t turned off since.
Now, to manifest a thousand dollars!
