When Life Goes Wrong

Confession time.

I’m 22. I have a college degree. I’ve published a book. I have a car.

But I do not have a driver’s license. 

Yeah . . .

There’s a long fun story to explain the many reasons why I don’t have one. Something along the lines of illegal driving in Peru . . . moving out when I was 17 (you have to be 18 to get your license in Peru) . . . spending the following summers working at PCC or serving overseas . . .

I finally got my learner’s permit this Spring, but understandably none of my friends with cars were up to the adventure of letting a newbie take their vehicle for a spin. Their parents, who were paying the insurance, weren’t in favor of this idea either—for obvious reasons.

After I graduated in May, I went to Peru for two weeks. I was eager to practice driving with my dad. On day one, I successfully drove to the grocery store and back. On day two, when I was going to practice driving again, our van decided to completely die.

So that went nowhere.

After spending the summer not-driving in India, I went back to the States and made huge adulting achievements, like driving to Walmart without hitting anyone and driving on the Interstate for an hour (honestly, that one hour involved a lot of annoyed drivers and almost ended my friendship with Alessia).

I learned the hard way that stops signs actually meant STOP and not SLOW-DOWN-ISH. I had zero confidence in my driving ability which made practicing much more stressful fun.

During the first few weeks of the semester, I set up an appointment to get my driving test. I only had a short window to take the test and get back on campus for my job as an academic advisor. That whole week I was extremely stressed out and overwhelmed by the classes I was teaching and the ones I was taking.

But on Tuesday at 8 a.m., my dad came to pick me up for my test. I drove away from my house, but I hadn’t made it out of campus when I broke down.

I couldn’t do it.

I hadn’t given myself permission to not go and take the test. But my dad could tell I was about to fall apart. He told me that I didn’t have to go right now. I pulled over, canceled my appointment, and cried.

In retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t push through and go to my test. I probably would have failed it because of how I was doing emotionally that morning.

I set up an appointment for another test, but the first available time was a month away—October 4.

During the next few weeks, I practiced more and grew more confident. I was ready for my test. Which brings us to this morning. I got up early, made coffee for Victoria, my friend who agreed to go with me, and we set off to the DMV.

Everything was going well until I sat in the car with my instructor. The first thing he did was have me roll down the front windows. The window on the driver’s side didn’t roll down, even though it had worked just fine the night before.

Then he checked my lights.

Sometime between practicing yesterday and driving to the DMV this morning, my right taillight had burned out.

The instructor said, “So . . . we have two options. Either you fix the light and come back. Or you roll down the window and use hand signals. Well, actually, your window isn’t rolling down. So now we have one option.”

Actually, we had no options. I didn’t have time to fix the light and take the driving test before I had to clock in for work

Fifteen minutes later, I drove back onto campus without a license.

Even though I finally felt confident and ready to take my test, I still wouldn’t be able to. I’d have to wait a month for another appointment that worked with my schedule.

As I pulled into my parking spot on campus, coffee accidentally spilled on the front seat. I just laughed and told Victoria, “It’s like a series of unfortunate events . . . all before 9 a.m.! Everything that could possibly go wrong has done so.”

My reaction to this series of unfortunate events?

I laughed and walked back to my house smiling.

Things rarely go as I plan them, so I try not to get too attached to my plans. When I was growing up, my parents would respond with humor when things went wrong.

Instead of cussing or complaining or getting extremely angry or frustrated, they would laugh! They would laugh together and they taught us to laugh.

I remember talking to Grandaddy Anderson about this last year. He said that he made it a habit to see the adventure in the unexpected. Whenever his tire would go flat or things didn’t go as planned, he’d just smile and go with it, enjoying the adventures that would take place.

Things are always going to go wrong. We can’t control that. But we can control how we react to disappointment. There have been many times when I’ve quickly lost my patience when things didn’t go the way I wanted them to.

But I know there’s always a plan behind the chaos. 

When things go wrong, I want my knee-jerk reaction to be laughter. I don’t want to curse or get frustrated or extremely angry. I want to laugh!

This whole week as I prayed for my test and prepared for it, God knew what was going to take place. He knew I’d have to wait another month for my test.

This is just something that can teach me patience and remind me to appreciate the kindness of my friends.  I want independence and I crave it. But being dependent on others has humbled me.

Even in the little things, God is working out the details of my life. If I can trust Him with the big things, I know I can also trust Him with things like getting my license.

So when things don’t go the way I plan it, I’m just going to laugh about it, (maybe write about it), and move on.

Life is just an adventure we get to take. And I want to enjoy every minute.