There are times when life doesn’t go your way.
Even when you start out early morning singing that Broadway chorus; the one that makes you feel like dancin’ across the state of Oklahoma.
Because even though you got up on the right side of the bed, by the time you’re putting on your nighttime slippers, you may be humming a different tune.
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That’s what happened to my husband, Bill, and I when our Jeep decided to act like a mule and not budge once we’d canoed on the Clark Fork River all day.
After 26 miles — our first trip of the season — our muscles were already feeling a bit cranky. The last thing we needed was a car with an attitude.
So the next day, while the canoe group planned their adventure on the river, I knew why I didn’t feel like singing. Things definitely weren’t going our way.
The diagnosis was a dead battery, which brought out jumper cables and a few jolts to get us on our way to Missoula, Mont., a couple of hours down the road.
Before long, with a new Jeep battery and a new outlook we went searching for lunch. A few antlers outside The Big Montana restaurant beckoned us in.
“Where are you from?” a dark-eyed gal asked as she handed us a menu.
She knew we weren’t part of the regulars, us dressed in camping clothes instead of boots and jeans.
When we told her our hometown was Kennewick, Wash., her eyes lit up like the Fourth of July, even though we were more than a week or two past.
“Why, that’s where I want to move!” she nearly shouted, explaining she was hankering for sunshine more months of the year.
Between customers, I advised Jordan on leads to a nursing program in our area, and she told us places to see before we left town.
Like two longtime friends, we’ve since texted and emailed, helping her plan for her future move.
That chance meeting has made me realize that when life isn’t going my way, it may really be going God’s way.
Putting me — or you — in the right place at the right time to help someone else sing, “Ev’erything’s goin’ my way.”