Lessons in Faith

This whole lesson in faith thing is quite the trial. 

After losing our shirt on the Dubuque Ren Faire, we limped back into Scott County Park. ( I will post photos of the Faire later). Yesterday, we managed to obtain a gas voucher from a generous local church—at least it was enough to put gas in the Explorer.  We arrived at the church with 4 miles left in the tank (not four gallons, four miles).  Then it was four and a half miles to the gas station.  Prayers said the whole way got us to the gas station, with literally zero miles on the readout.  Whew!

Today was Rick’s doctor’s appointment, and there were other errands to run in town.  We returned our library movies, checked out some more, visited a food pantry because we are out of both cash and food stamps and received a nice selection of a few items we needed (eggs, milk, tuna, cereal, canned chicken, spam).  We gave back most of the canned goods because we don’t have room for them, they are heavy and we don’t believe in taking more than we need.  We also got a deodorizer for the bathroom and a couple rolls of toilet paper.  Amen!

At the doctor’s we scheduled Rick’s first carpal tunnel surgery for the worst hand—the left.  The last few weeks, he has been waking up at night, crying out in pain because his hands burn and feel tingly and swollen—enough to prevent a good night’s sleep.  Even the good pain pills don’t eliminate it.  So, he goes in on June 10th.

Then back to Scott County Park to the RV.  We had to leave today, as we have used our 14 days out of a month.  Our thought was to go to West Lake or Buffalo Beach, but we didn’t have the cash to pay for a space.  A friend gave us the money, with much love, as well as some lovely cooked chicken and fresh fruit, bless her heart!  She didn’t ask for it back, only told me to pay it forward when we could.  Which she knows we will. 

So, gassed up (at least enough to get to the next park) we headed out to Buffalo Beach.  When we arrived, there were no campsites, and the RV was low again on gas.  The very nice lady who works the office at Buffalo Beach called up to West Lake to see if they had an opening.  It turned out that someone was leaving in just a few minutes—transferring from one campground to another.  Because we are handicapped, they told us we could come get it.

Up to West Lake, and a mad dash for the spot.  I arrived at the open spot about ten seconds before another couple (not handicapped)  pulled their fifth wheel in to what was supposed to be our spot.  Oh, no!  Now what?  Where would we go? 

I called the West Lake office and they said to come back there and we could straighten things out with the ranger.  After hearing our story the ranger had one thing to say—sorry, first-come, etc.  And the people who stole our spot, after hearing our story, just stood there and looked at us!  No apology, no empathy, no compassion.  Lawful?  Yes.  But not an ounce of mercy.

So, dejected, we parked the RV in the overflow parking lot and drove into Davenport to see what we could figure out.  Nobody we knew could support parking an RV.  Then I thought of a person with whom I had once had a close friendship—a friendship that experienced a serious rift over a year ago.  I didn’t even know if she would be home. 

But it must have been Divine Providence, because when we pulled up in front of her house, she was not only home, but sitting on the front porch!  Something she rarely does.

She seemed happy to see us, and we both hugged.  We agreed not to talk about the past issues and we were welcomed to park behind her house.  So I will pay forward some of that money to her for her generosity.

The Universe works in mysterious ways.  Frustrating, but mysterious, and always eventually meeting our needs.  Tomorrow is another day, with its own challenges and adventures.  Please give me the strength to not freak out over the little stuff. Rick, as always, stays calm.