At the Car Wash

If my husband or I are at home and we grab the keys to the car, my dog stands by the back door, prancing, waiting for the anticipated word “okay!” meaning she can come along. She runs straight to the car and waits eagerly to jump in. As my sweet, cute, incredible dog sat in my backseat, I somehow thought it would be a good idea to get the car washed. I pulled in and was waved into the wash bay. Cubbie sat there smiling (really!), in anticipation of what was going to happen. This is when things began to go awry.

The car wash team began to wet down the whole car with a pressure washer. The moment the water jet stream hit the passenger side of the car which was closest to her, the deafening roar caused her to bolt diagonally over the seats, onto the top of my head, scrambling toward the dashboard. She was so panicked that she was scratching me to shreds and getting her legs caught in the steering wheel and between the seats as she tried to get out of the car. I used all of my strength to peel her off of me as the washer worked his way around the front of the car. I spoke calmly, and loudly to her trying to say, “it’s ok, Cubbie, I’m right here! It will be ok, you’re ok! I’ve got you,  I’ve GOT you!”

Just as I got her to sort of sit in the front passenger seat, the water hit the driver side door with another thunderous “whoooosh”. She then did a sideways roll-type flip over the console into the backseat, clawing the whole way, falling down into the floorboards, scrambling her way to nowhere. I kept trying to call her and pull her close to me to comfort her, but it was to no avail.

Thinking the ordeal was over, the guy with the evil pressure washer opened the back door and ran the water stream along the door jamb. Another panicked scramble – this time coming over my shoulder, sliding down, then under my legs. I thought that now, because I was covering her, she would relax a bit. Not so. My door opened as the guy swiped the door jamb. She blasted over my shoulder to the backseat. After I gave the order to “cease and desist”, I put my car in gear and drove out of the bay.

At this point they have you exit the car and wait as they clean the inside. I put my pup on a jerry-rigged leash made of a doubled up USB cord. She dashed out of the car trying to get as far away as she could. After lots of soothing words, pets, and hugs she settled down, and we both tried to lick our wounds for a minute.

When the car was ready and we went to get in, she looked back three times to make sure I was there.  She wouldn’t get in until I was right with her. Once we were inside, she stayed close to me and promptly curled up and went to sleep for the 10 minute ride home.

While I was trying to calm and comfort Cubbie, all I kept thinking was: Lord, is this how you feel when you try to calm your children? Do we fight you so hard that we injure our minds, hearts and spirits, and maybe our bodies, because we refuse to trust that you are right there? Do we hurt you deeply with the fact that we jet about trying to soothe ourselves, yet only manage to do more damage?

“God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of love and of a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7)

This scripture passage became so real to me at the car wash. He loves us so much. He wants that thought to blanket our minds, so that when trouble comes we are comforted by His presence.

Our Heavenly Father continually tells us, I’m right here, you’re OK, I’ve got you! “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand…For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Fear not, I am the one who helps you.”” (Isaiah 41:10-13)

Just like Cubbie illustrated for me on the ride home, when we quit fighting God, lean into Him and trust that He is there with us, we can curl up in His lap and our souls will rest.


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