Sunday morning was a great morning.  A serious fog was everywhere.  The commute was a little longer than usual, but not too bad.  I was actually the only car on the road, which was great… ya know… for your health.  When I got to work, I was greeted with broken sound equipment, computer issues and half of a worship team.  Not the end of the world, but still… when paired with the white-knuckle express that I rode to work, it was making for a pretty good sized tension headache.  By 1:00, I was ready to leave, feeling much better.  As I got to my car, I realized that my car was looking really gimpy.  It was leaning forward and toward the left, as if it grew up in the city.  (Everybody knows that my car was a rental in Hawaii before I got it).  So the city-stance was due to a tire situation.  After closer examination (by a real, honest-to-goodness doctor) we realized that my tire was probably 75% low.  A local hero brought out a portable compressor to pump my tire up, so I could get on the road.  After twenty minutes of lil’ pumpy, I was safe enough to at least drive to the gas station to properly inflate the dirty-ridin’ tire.  Once inflated, I drove on to Ann Arbor’s own Briarwood Mall, where the Apple corporation rents a space.  I was quickly kicked out for not having an appointment.  That was probably the last straw that my camel’s back could bare.  So rather than go out and spend time with others, knowing that I was due for an explosion, I decided to go home to bed.  Within a mile of home, my car started dripping.  Obviously, because of the really rainy weather, cars drip.  But not from the inside.  And not from under the dashboard.  This is a problem I’m all-too-familiar with, but so is my mechanic.  So seeing the old drip, or “old drippy” as I’ve called it, was not a good thing, considering how loaded down that poor camel was.  Because I was close to home, I let it go.  I knew I could take care of it some other time, and I was, after all, almost home.  And then I pulled into the driveway.  Because of all the snow and rain and ridiculously warm weather (thanks, Al Gore), my driveway was um… full of awe.  By that, I mean it was Awful.  Dirt plus water plus clay plus water plus more dirt and more water equal a mess.  And I came wheels-to-driveway with this mess.  Believe it or not, I got stuck trying to get into my own driveway.  not in snow, as I’ve done before.  In mud.  About four inches of mud.  And there it went.  The camel’s poor back just gave out right there in my driveway.  I shut the car off in the middle of the driveway, sludged through the rest of the way to the house and slept in muddy pants for the rest of the afternoon.

Why do I tell you about all of that?  Well, mostly so you’ll feel bad.  But partly because of this… what ended up turning me around (and really, stopping me from drowning in my own self-pity) was a friend, calling to see how I was.  And the farther I get from the stupid stuff that happened Sunday, the more I see how relationships conquer all of the other garbage of life.  God’s good, isn’t he?  He’s made us for relationships.  With Him, with each other… how cool.