About a week and a half ago I signed the pink slip to my husband's car over to a junk hauler, who towed the non-functioning car out of our driveway and off for parts. My dad had already taken the front seats for one of his many automotive projects, and I was just sad there was still a half a tank of gas and a brand new tire being towed away.

That car had come at a critical time and blessed my family like crazy. It was literally given to us by friends. It served as the too and from work car...missing seat belts and stalling several times a day. We'd had that looked at but with a repair that would cost in excess of $500 and not guarantee a new problem, we just let it be. So my sweet husband learned to take surface streets and recognize the familiar rattle at a stop light that would indicate a stall coming on. His commute  was at least 40 mins longer when the car was cranky...40 precious minutes.

Finally, a few weeks ago, it died. He went out to start the car one morning and the car simply declined to obey and said "click" instead. Just click, we were a one car family.

We made due, because that's just kind of what we do. We all dig in and make it work. We had friends who were willing to lend a ride here and there and occasionally I could borrow my parent's car to get the kids to school.

We were waiting on some financial stuff to fall into place, waiting on a car to become available. The used car we had intended to purchase was suddenly unavailable just as we were ready to go and then we had no direction.

I took to the internet to learn how to even start looking. We had no ideas. New verses used. Small verses large...we just didn't know.

As a joke my husband said "Too bad no one is selling my dream car. To which I replied, "I actually saw one listed today" so of course he went to look...but in the few hours since I had seen a black beat up model someone listed a beautiful, white with turquoise interior, CONVERTIBLE. I have seen the pictures of The Dream Car. The car he had as a teen and let go. The car I had heard about from before we got married. The Classic car. And here it was. The right color, a great price and an engine with only 66,000 a 50 year old car!

The next week was a series of crazy events that *dropped* our car payment. Left insurance nearly the same with better coverage. And finding out the gas mileage in The Dream Car would be better than the staller.

Three days ago, we brought home The Dream.

And everytime I look at it, I see a love letter from God. We didn't need *this car*. The point could be made that we didn't even *need* a second car, though just one was really tough. This car is *nothing* but a gift. Why? I have no idea other than that God is a good good daddy and He delights in the joy of His children...Like when I buy Goldfish crackers and know my nearly grown teen son will love them. Or when I offer "nanas" to the baby and she grins like a monkey.

God is *that* invested in our silly dreams. Our insignificant wants. Sometimes, for no greater reason at all, He wants us to know that we are His favorites. Because we are. Each and every one of us...His favorites.

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