He's Too Good To Me crosses the intersection on his green light and is hit hard. She tries to stop, he sees it all over her face, but there was nothing either could do.
It's after midnight days later as we pull into the hotel. I'm telling him about Natasha, how she needs a home in our country. How friends of ours would like to bring her home.
I tell him about Kristen and her trip to Africa. How she can't keep her stuff now and struggles daily with a heart breaking for what she knows. How she and her family are covering their refrigerator with Compassion children.
Is he listening? I'm not sure. He nods, agrees, nods some more here and there as I talk endlessly. Says nothing. So much on his mind.
We walk around the car lot miles from our home and I hold my purse to me like it is gold. Hold it with both arms and clasped hands. There is cash inside an envelope. His truck was worth more to him than this, but we don't make the rules. I hold tightly and follow behind him.
We go eat breakfast to decide. We sit in a booth and hear a beautiful blessing from behind us.
We talk about mufflers and tires and how it needs a thousand dollars work. I try to ask questions to help him decide. How I wish I knew something about this stuff so I could give useful advice. I feel helpless.
Our food comes. Hot toast, eggs, bacon, and grits. He takes my hand and thanks God. He asks for wisdom in this decision. He begs to stay in His will.
And then . . .
Part 2 tomorrow.