Author's note: some of you will read this title and assume I am pregnant! That is not the case; if it were the title of this piece would be 'Unbelieveably Major Miracle', or maybe substitute Accident for Miracle!
I drive a black Mini Convertible, I got her (affectionately christened Minnie Mouse) 26 months ago when the time had come that a boot was no longer essential in a car to house prams and buggies and the like. I'm not really big into cars, but I love this one to bits.
At the end of March last year, more or less exactly a year ago today, when I was at my doolali-ist, Minnie Mouse was stolen. The thieves came into the house (which was occupied at the time) took the house and car keys, locked our front door behind them, jumped into Minnie and drove off. Just like that, at 8.50pm on a Friday evening.
As I said, I love Minnie to bits, but at the end of the day she is just a car. And although I was distraught that she had been taken, my real concern at the time was how was I going to deal with the police and insurance companies when I couldn't even string together a coherent sentence for my own brother!
Of course the police came round - 'ordinary' PCs, detectives and eventually Scene of Crime boys. Questions, questions and fingerprint dust everywhere. We had an emergency locksmith call out that night to change the house locks so we could at least get a half decent nights sleep.
The whole event took it's toll; the next day I was worth nothing, tried to put on a brave face, but knew I was slipping back to the 'doughball' (my word) I had been a few weeks previously - forgetting words, mixing up words, incoherent, distracted, forgetful, shaky .. I could go on!!! Suffice to say, it wasn't good!
At some stage in the morning the 'boys' went to play rugby and mum called to take Dolly to Irish Dancing so I was left to my own devices. Just for about 10 minutes. When mum returned, she found me standing on the doorstep, scrubbing it down with a nailbrush. Why? Couldn't tell you! Couldn't tell you now, and certainly couldn't have told you then. But I did realise I was being stupid as I was doing it. I remember that.
I also remember, very clearly, sort of threatening God that I didn't want to go all the way back to where I'd come from and could He please make sure that didn't happen. You see, a friend from work had sent me a prayer card during the previous week which had led to a telephone conversation in which we talked about how, when you hit rock bottom and you can't do anything for yourself, if you rely on God, He'll see you through. Well, that was sort of where I was at!
Due to my unstable state, we only told three people outside family what had happened with the car, to avoid any 'fuss'.
The police had told us that if we didn't hear anything within the first 24 hours, the car was gone - stolen to order. And we hadn't heard a dickie bird; it hadn't been found burnt out or smashed up by joy-riders, we hadn't had the 'ransom' call, and it hadn't been spotted or found in any of the known 'lock-ups'. Bye Bye Minnie Mouse :-(
The weekend passed and the day came for phoning insurance companies. I elected to stay in bed, which was probably the best place for me! Hubby took a days leave to sort out the insurance etc etc etc ...
He was speaking to the police on the phone, confirming that they had no news, when his mobile phone rang. It was one of the three friends we had told that the car was stolen. The friend asked hubby to confirm my car registration number, which he did. He asked him again. Then to everyones astonishment (including the police who were still on the other line) he said he was looking at my car, which was parked up outside his office in a small village about 20 miles away from Belfast!
And sure enough, there it was. Undamaged, nothing stolen from it, just sitting there. And whilst everyone else is getting very excited about the whole thing, I'm sitting there as cool as a cucumber - completely out of character for the time. Why? Because I had asked God to sort out the problem, and He had done, in the best possible way!
So, how's that for a Mini miracle?!
At the end of March last year, more or less exactly a year ago today, when I was at my doolali-ist, Minnie Mouse was stolen. The thieves came into the house (which was occupied at the time) took the house and car keys, locked our front door behind them, jumped into Minnie and drove off. Just like that, at 8.50pm on a Friday evening.
As I said, I love Minnie to bits, but at the end of the day she is just a car. And although I was distraught that she had been taken, my real concern at the time was how was I going to deal with the police and insurance companies when I couldn't even string together a coherent sentence for my own brother!
Of course the police came round - 'ordinary' PCs, detectives and eventually Scene of Crime boys. Questions, questions and fingerprint dust everywhere. We had an emergency locksmith call out that night to change the house locks so we could at least get a half decent nights sleep.
The whole event took it's toll; the next day I was worth nothing, tried to put on a brave face, but knew I was slipping back to the 'doughball' (my word) I had been a few weeks previously - forgetting words, mixing up words, incoherent, distracted, forgetful, shaky .. I could go on!!! Suffice to say, it wasn't good!
At some stage in the morning the 'boys' went to play rugby and mum called to take Dolly to Irish Dancing so I was left to my own devices. Just for about 10 minutes. When mum returned, she found me standing on the doorstep, scrubbing it down with a nailbrush. Why? Couldn't tell you! Couldn't tell you now, and certainly couldn't have told you then. But I did realise I was being stupid as I was doing it. I remember that.
I also remember, very clearly, sort of threatening God that I didn't want to go all the way back to where I'd come from and could He please make sure that didn't happen. You see, a friend from work had sent me a prayer card during the previous week which had led to a telephone conversation in which we talked about how, when you hit rock bottom and you can't do anything for yourself, if you rely on God, He'll see you through. Well, that was sort of where I was at!
Due to my unstable state, we only told three people outside family what had happened with the car, to avoid any 'fuss'.
The police had told us that if we didn't hear anything within the first 24 hours, the car was gone - stolen to order. And we hadn't heard a dickie bird; it hadn't been found burnt out or smashed up by joy-riders, we hadn't had the 'ransom' call, and it hadn't been spotted or found in any of the known 'lock-ups'. Bye Bye Minnie Mouse :-(
The weekend passed and the day came for phoning insurance companies. I elected to stay in bed, which was probably the best place for me! Hubby took a days leave to sort out the insurance etc etc etc ...
He was speaking to the police on the phone, confirming that they had no news, when his mobile phone rang. It was one of the three friends we had told that the car was stolen. The friend asked hubby to confirm my car registration number, which he did. He asked him again. Then to everyones astonishment (including the police who were still on the other line) he said he was looking at my car, which was parked up outside his office in a small village about 20 miles away from Belfast!
And sure enough, there it was. Undamaged, nothing stolen from it, just sitting there. And whilst everyone else is getting very excited about the whole thing, I'm sitting there as cool as a cucumber - completely out of character for the time. Why? Because I had asked God to sort out the problem, and He had done, in the best possible way!
So, how's that for a Mini miracle?!
2 comments:
Remarkable co-incidence. Or God-incidence. Z
Don't be too hard on yourself for the step-scrubbing. You were acting out a metaphor of cleaning the place where the crime had happened. It did you good I would bet. Symbolic acts are worth doing. Love the tale. Peace.
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