A spiritual experience

So, today we were about to head to synagogue in my car -- Drew had intended to drop me off at synagogue and Rachel at preschool -- and we were leaving later than I wanted to -- and....the car wouldn't start. Completely dead, no sign of electricity anywhere. Dead battery, Drew said. Or possibly worse: a power drain somewhere, something that was draining power from the battery, even if it was turned off. Which sent me into quite a tailspin: my mind immediately goes to a worse-case scenario whenever I think of my 13-year-old car with the broken odometer, the one that stopped recording miles at 217,044 -- that I'll be stuck with a $900 repair bill, and I refuse to pour that much money into my car anymore, which means I'll have to buy a new car, which we just can't afford right now, etc. etc. etc. Drew dropped me off at synagogue just in time to find a seat near the front, and I spent much of the service in tears, or near-tears. Everything just seemed overwhelming at that point: the oven door, the car, our finances, everything. During the part of the Rosh Hashana service where they say pray, I prayed -- hard. (I had also forgotten my reading glasses, and the synagogue was kind of dark, so I had some trouble reading the prayers).

Toward the end of the service I suddenly noticed that it was easier for me to read. I looked up and, to my right, a shaft of sunlight was shining through the stained glass windows, right onto my prayer book (and the books of other folks, I'm sure, but the sunbeam didn't look that wide-ranging). I thought to myself, "I hope this is a sign," realizing that if I really had faith, I'd KNOW it was a sign -- but I tried to feel better about things. (It helped that the new assistant rabbi the synagogue just hired, Rabbi Joseph, gave a fiery sermon about social action, and the synagogue's project this year of trying to alleviate hunger in the Oregon. She mentioned the fact that the number of people with advanced degrees who are patronizing food pantries has tripled, which certainly got my attention -- and then she disclosed that SHE had been on food stamps, and knows what it's like to get money through the WIC program, and what it's like dealing with caseworkers, and that she's not the typical person you'd expect to receive government assistance  -- and after I picked my jaw up off the floor I realized that, really, we're in pretty decent shape).

Anyway...as I was walking out of synagogue, I noticed I had voice mail. It was a message from Drew saying the problem with my car was that one of the battery cables was loose. The AAA guy reconnected it, and so there's no need for a new battery, or a systematic examination of my car, or a new vehicle. "You dodged a bullet," Drew concluded.

I hung up the phone, looked up at the sky, and through my tears I whispered, "Thank you. Thank you."