This, to be precise, is my daughter's car, a 21 year old Rover Metro. Now on the Sunday before the wedding it had decided to die outside our house and, despite several attempts to fix it, it was still standing in my garage on the day of the wedding.
In the end I spent most of the next week working on it instead of resting despite having a chest infection. I think I was running on pure adrenalin and almost worked myself into the ground. All it took was a new carburettor, distributor, coil and cylinder head - the wonder is that it was running at all before!
The odd thing was the feeling that I was meant to be doing this despite several setbacks along the way - in particular when a sheared bolt meant taking it all to bits again. If it was going to die the best place to do it was where it did so we could push it into the garage, the new carburettor had been on the shelf for so long that it was 1/3 the price of re-conditioned unit, a long search on-line and phone ended by locating a cylinder head within driving distance and all the time I seemed to have just enough energy. I can honestly say there were times when I was aware of God with me in the garage up to my elbows in grease.
It's as if God was saying 'I know this has got to be done and it's got to be done by you even though you are hardly in a fit state to do it. But don't worry I'm here with you and I'm making sure it doesn't get too much for you.'
I just hope I can carry a bit of that into the rest of my life.
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