But the cars have a layer of icing on them. That, I do mind. But hey, maybe it's just the cars that are iced. I could walk on the sidewalk and the grass. I'll just take my time.
Gingerly, I made my way up the driveway and I could feel the wheels wanting to wander, but still, this is the driveway and it's not like the salt trucks venture down my lane. The main roads will be okay. Surely they will be okay. I mean, just because I rarely follow the weather doesn't mean that nobody else did.
Turning onto 669, I inch the speedometer up to 5, then 8 mph, topping out at 10 mph, and slide ever so smoothly until I am sideways in the road. This. Is. Not. Good. I check my mirrors quickly and note that there is no one else about and I proceed to straighten out my car and then back up all the way to my driveway. Turning in, I park the car and call work to let them know I would be late.
I am trying not to feel sick to my stomach but I can feel the cords tightening and the churning begin. I hate being late. I don't want to cause someone else stress. I don't know what else to do except wait it out until the roads have been salted. I hate this.
So now, I wait. I am not much good at this business of being patient. My shoulders tense, my stomach is still feeling rebellious and I get this crazy shivering that drives me crazy because I am not really even that cold. Coffee doesn't even appeal to me. I just want to know when I can get back onto the road safely. I have a job to do.
I can't do my job if I end up in the Emergency Room. Or worse. I know that but it doesn't make this any easier.
Lord, You have a plan and it is not always mine. Let me be okay with that. Your time is not my time. Help me to wait with grace. Amen
Love, Dianne
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