Melissa here. Today we’re going back in time a bit. I don’t want to spoil it, so jump in the Delorean or the Hot Tub depending on your generation…
I was still reeling from the news two days before.
Tanner had been laid off from his job.
And we were both just so, so sad.
It was hard because, even though Tanner didn’t love QA engineering, he had loved the company.
That job had been such a good “yes”.
It was especially hard because I was 5 months pregnant and quickly approaching unpaid maternity leave… and we had 4 and 2 year old boys at home.
The intrusive thoughts were loud…
This job hunt is going to take forever.
My brain started to catastrophize...
What if this lasts months and months?
How are we going to make it without both of our incomes?
What about insurance….
The scenarios piled on and my brain went to fix it mode (unsuccessfully).
The thoughts were still clambering after my attention as I got into the car that morning to drive to the clinic.
To try and cut the cyclical thinking, I turned on some worship music and started to pray as I navigated traffic on I-285.
Without warning, a State Farm Hero Vehicle– probably on its way to help some stranded vehicle– jetted a few cars in front of us and raised up a big digital sign:
“SLOW TRAFFIC AHEAD. DO NOT PASS.”
… and slows to 15 miles per hour.
“Dang it!!” I thought.” I'm already running late. This is going to take forever.”
But in that moment, something in my spirit tapped me on the shoulder. And I felt like the Lord was saying “Pay attention to this.”
I wish I could say I calmly received it. But at this point, I’m three cars back, so frustrated, and anticipating all the worst case scenarios ahead of hours of stopped traffic.
Suddenly, less than three minutes later, that bright yellow Hero vehicle just pulls off to the side of the road and lowers its sign.
No stranded vehicle. No accident. (No idea why it was even out there)
And somehow as that happens, the cars shuffle and I end up at the front of the traffic just as we crest the top of this hill on the highway.
And laying before me is a completely empty seven lane highway. It was eerie and exhilarating all at the same time. This never happens in Atlanta… even at 2am there are hundreds of cars on the road.
“YES!” I think and hit the gas.
And in that moment, I just felt in my spirit “Melissa, this job loss isn't going to take as long as you think, and your husband is a McLaren, who's never had an open road.”
Even 3 years later that memory makes me tear up.
At that moment I just wept.
All the emotions, the stress, the fear of the last few days… it all came pouring out.
But also, the hope rising, the defiance to believe differently about the future. Even the protectiveness I felt for my amazing husband who I knew was wrestling with feelings of failure.
The best part is I didn't even know what a McLaren was. I remember thinking: I think it's a car. I think it's fast. That's all I know. (Google later helped me out)
Less than three weeks later Tanner got a great job offer.
But something else was in motion…
And that’s where we’ll pick up in the next email.
Warmly,
Melissa and Tanner
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