W.E. Krill, Jr. M.S.P.C.

Recently, Anne and I took a mini vacation. We were to spend a couple of nights at a state park in a cabin, and then go on to visit her parents in Philly. It had been a long time since we had done anything like this, and it was indeed over due. I wanted it all to be perfect for us, and prepared carefully (or so I thought).

It was pouring rain the day of departure, and during the travel to the park. Upon arrival, we discover that the ‘cottage’ does not have a refrigerator or stove, which I was sure I saw listed in the brochure. Still pouring, we head out to find a local eatery that was acclaimed near and far. I had forgotten to bring the directions from the camp to the eatery, and we had given our GPS unit to our son to use while we were gone. So, I could not find the wonderful Italian place to eat.

Then the car battery light went on. Then the power steering went out. I decided to get back to the camp, stopping first at a pizza joint to pick up a couple of sandwiches.  On the way back to camp, other dash lights began to flicker on, and the wiper blades got very slow.  We coasted up to our ‘cottage’ just in time. Still pouring, of course. You can imagine my grumbled words, but you cannot know what was going on inside of me.

Most people would have just been simply angry or disappointed, and I was those, but I was also overwhelmed with a intense feeling of inadequacy. Yes, inadequacy. This is something that I have struggled with my entire life. Having wanted the trip to be perfect for Anne (and myself, but especially for Anne), I felt as if I had failed completely. Crazy you say? Of course it’s crazy. But the feeling was real.

I struggled to soothe myself. Then I turned to my best friend and told her what I was feeling and struggling with. What a moment of grace. But I still felt inadequate.

After both of us were frustrated in trying to get through to the insurance company to verify if we had towing insurance (we never got through to a human being that night), we sat and made some Christmas cards together. What a moment of grace. But I still felt inadequate.

In the morning, I called AAA, who gave me the name of a towing company, who gave me the name of a local mechanic in the nearby town. The mechanic stated he was just a ‘one man shop’ and had sixteen other things to do that day, but then volunteered to come out to look at our car. Still hanging on to hope that it was just something really simple wrong, I welcomed his gesture, wondering if my cash on hand would cover his trip out.

Shortly after his arrival, he diagnosed the problem by pulling the broken part out of the engine, where it sat precariously ready to drop to the roadway. The ‘harmonic balancer’, he said, was broken. He could not fix it in place, and it would be two days before he could even get the part.  The only answer was to have the car towed back to Hollidaysburg, some 100+ miles. I thanked the man, and asked him what I owed him. He said: ‘Nothing, I don’t charge for bringing people bad news’. What a moment of grace. But I still felt inadequate.

We had paid for the next day in the ‘cottage’ and had some food and charcoal, so we decided to stay the night and be towed the next day.  The next day dawned dry, breezy, and with a beautiful blue sky. We walked, we talked, we made more cards together and shared a meal cooked outdoors. We discussed our good fortune that the rain had stopped, thanked God that we were not traveling at sixty miles an hour on the highway when the part fell off the car, and held each other. It was a day of grace. And I began to feel quite adequate again.

Don’t avoid your feelings, if they are of inadequacy or some other feeling; feel them fully, and look for the moments of grace that heal…that is the real ‘harmonic balancer’ of life.