|A Little Vintage Trailer (not mine!)|
So, I’ve been looking for a trailer. Not just any trailer, mind you. I want a sweet, tiny, vintage trailer.
I’m really serious about this. I’ve been riding the online classifieds like a kid with a new bike. Every spare second I get, I’m right there, in front of my computer, searching the ads.
Lest you think this is an easy task, let me tell you, I have been searching relentlessly for seven months. I have walked away from many, many trailers, and I have missed several gems. Like, by 30 seconds.
Last weekend I missed TWO trailers.
So I had a little talk with God. I said, “God, you know the desires of my heart. And you know where my perfect trailer is. I’m tired of searching and driving and waiting, and I’m really tired of being disappointed. So can we just get this done?”
Then I clicked on the classifieds, and there she was! A 1961 Shasta Compact! With her original wings!
Only one picture. No close-ups. No interior shots. But she was only a few blocks away! Did I mention it was sunset? I raced over, but it was already dark when I got there. Nevertheless, what did I have to worry about? God sent this one to me!
I was the first one there, but there were other hopeful buyers on the way, leaving me about 30 seconds to make up my mind. So I handed the guy my cash, and he handed me the key and the title. I had a few misgivings….like about the lump in the middle of the floor. And the squishy wood behind the sink, and the paneling that I could push my finger through; but what the heck? God sent me this trailer, right?
Once my little trailer was safely in my driveway, I had a chance to inspect her fully. Let’s see….there are holes in the front where someone drove her into a tree. There are the tiny dents all over the back, probably from a hailstorm. There are the repairs that are literally on top of other repairs. And the bent axle. (In case you are wondering, you can tell by the way THE WHEEL IS ALL COCKEYED.) Then there is the split back seam, and the two million decking screws along the edges.
The interior? Let’s just say I still haven’t had the courage to lift the piece of carpet in the teeny tiny bathroom to see what‘s underneath. The stove is missing, the cupboard doors are warped, and a big piece of pressed board is glued to the back wall, covering up….I can only imagine what.
But, hey, God sent me this trailer, right?
Maybe. But did he intend for me to buy it blindly? Because I know the rules for buying trailers. Never buy one in the dark. Never buy one with water damage. Always look carefully at the underside. Always look behind cushions and in the backs of cupboards to check for, oh yeah, WATER DAMAGE.
So, some guy lists his trailer just about the time I have a conversation with God. Clearly, there was no fine print from the Divine in the ad. Nothing wrong with checking it out. But there IS something wrong with not using the good sense the good Lord gave me when it came time to make a decision.
Just because I temporarily lost my mind, went against all the rules of good judgment, and bought a stupid trailer DOES NOT MEAN I CAN BLAME GOD. Because even if he DID send me this trailer, it was probably meant as a really good example of what NOT to buy.
And that’s the thing about trying to decide God’s will. Yes, he knows the desires of my heart. Yes, he always answers prayer. But sometimes the answer is ‘No.” Imposing MY will and trying to make it be God’s…well, it just doesn’t work like that.
Trusting in God AND using your good sense works a lot better.
But, then again, maybe God wants me to learn about trailer repair!
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