July 2021. It was the middle of the night (2:30 a.m. to be exact), and the after-market car alarm on the new-to-me-minivan was going off again. I’d done everything I knew how to do to get it to shut off. Although my minivan was tucked in my garage during this particular alarm-screaming episode, I was certain that, in my “neighbors-are-right-next-to-me” neighborhood, I was surely ticking off someone somewhere.
A month earlier, I had purchased the minivan through a friend of a friend who knew a guy who purchased cars at auctions. I had told this car broker precisely the vehicle I wanted, and exactly how much cash I had on hand. Two weeks before that, my other minivan had finally given up the ghost, and I was without transportation, so when the broker found this minivan for the right price in SoCal, I was thrilled and grateful. And the fact that it had a super awesome after-market alarm on it made it even better. Of course, logic would tell you that an almost fifteen-year-old, powder blue minivan wouldn’t necessarily need a super awesome alarm system, because, ahem, who would want to steal it(?) but that was beside the point. It was my first big purchase as a newly single mom and I was thrilled.
Thrilled for a few weeks anyway, until that alarm decided to go off randomly at the worst possible times. And when it finally did that crazy middle-of-the-night, will-not-stop car alarm marathon, I was pretty much over it. Around 3:00 a.m., in desperation, I called AAA, and they sent out a friendly gentleman who graciously helped me troubleshoot my alarm in my garage, while it was blaring in our ears. After finally disconnecting the car battery, which obviously wasn’t a long-term solution, we concluded that, as soon as I could, I would need to disengage the fuse to the horn.
Easy enough, right? So, after bidding the AAA guy adieu, and snagging a few hours of sleep, I grabbed my needle nose pliers, a flashlight, the owner’s manual to the car, and popped the hood. I’m a smart lady, surely I could do this! As I examined the various compartments and tubes and other things under the hood, I soon realized I was out of my element. Sitting down to read the manual more closely, however, I was still determined to figure this out.
So, I kept reading and studying the strange things I was seeing under the hood. For a long time, my eyes darted between the old manual and the engine. But as the minutes wore on and the garage grew more hot, honestly, I grew more and more frustrated. Underneath the frustration though, were feelings I didn’t want to look at very closely. I was feeling fear — fear that I would never solve this, fear that it would be a costly repair, fear that I’d bought a lemon. I was also feeling shame – shame that I didn’t have a husband to do this, and even shame that I couldn’t afford something “better”. I’ll admit that, pretty soon, my eyes burned with tears that really wanted to fall, although my pride, even in the privacy of my garage, wouldn’t let them.
Finally, in desperation, I decided to do something I should have done the first disastrous time the car alarm went off – I called a friend of mine, whose husband was a mechanic. It was a Saturday, so they were both home, and, together, they popped on FaceTime with me. I showed the mechanic what I was looking at, and he quickly walked me through the steps to open the actual fuse box (not the compartment that I thought it was!), locate the correct fuse, and then easily remove it. I reconnected the battery, and voila, no car alarm going off. Literally, three weeks of stress and dread over this alarm had been solved in about 15 minutes with my friends over video.
All because I asked for help. For three weeks, I’d stressed and tried to solve and tried to fix on my own. Instead of admitting that I couldn’t do it, my pride kept me pushing stubbornly ahead. But once I realized, “Holly, this is absolutely ridiculous”, it was enough for me to give up and ask for help. And help at that time took the form of a friend’s mechanic husband on FaceTime.
How often do we struggle with that? We put on a brave face at church week after week instead of just saying, “I need help.” Or we just work harder and harder instead of stopping, getting on our knees and crying out to the Lord. And as we spin out, trying harder and harder to make life work, we compound it with shame and with fear, when really what we need is help. Help from our brothers and our sisters in Christ.
Do you need help? Do you need encouragement or strength or just prayer from your church family? I encourage you to reach out. Reach out to your fellow worship team members, or your fellow facilitators, or your fellow tech crew. Reach out to me. As our Unity Tenets say, we are called “to serve Jesus, our community, and each other. In humility, we pour ourselves out for one another, members of Vine & Branch, and those who are hurting in our community.” Matthew 20:26 – 27 “I shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you, must be your servant.”
So, go ahead and ask for help. Admit when it is hard. We are all called to serve one another and it is our privilege to do so.
And if you find yourself wanting to cry in your garage in the middle of the night because your car alarm will not stop, I’m your gal. I promise – I’ll be right over with my pliers and flashlight.
Your sister in Christ,
Holly