Fate vs. Faith

I spend a lot of time thinking about odds and probability. It occurs to me that, when I saunter down dark paths of wallowing in self-pity and asking myself, “Why me?”, I'm ignoring the role of God in our lives. Who's in charge? Is there such a thing as bad luck? Or is there a grand master plan that none of us can see? Does everything happen for a reason? Do all bad things pass? A glass-half-empty person might argue that good things pass as well, but I'd say the good outweighs the bad and quality beats quantity.

I wasn't looking forward to my Wednesday. I'd made three calls to the woman who slammed into my car, and had heard nothing. Out of courtesy, on the off chance that perhaps I had a wrong number, I called a fourth and final time before going to work on Wednesday, to politely inform her that I'd have to call their insurance company if I didn't hear from anyone by lunch. I've been driving my father's car all week while my car was sitting wounded in our driveway, waiting to be repaired. No one was hurt in the collision, nor was the damage irreparable. It was expensive, but that wasn't a big problem unless I had to pay for it. I wasn't angry; I just wanted them to take care of what they'd done.

I wasn't looking forward to work, either. Besides the difficult call ahead of me at lunch, a flurry of e-mails was sending me a huge curve ball. Apparently, my company sometimes inserts a last-minute flyer into a mailing, advertising the latest and greatest product. It's not a terrible idea from a business standpoint, but it means that after I think I'm done with one mailing and I've moved on to my next assignment, it's possible that someone will ask me to design an extra flyer on very short notice. Tuesday I learned about this flyer, at the very end of the day, with the barest of details. I knew what size it was and the name of the product we were selling. I didn't know what the product looked like, there was no information for my writer, and there was no art. To make matters worse, the person handling the schedules sent us an e-mail on Wednesday morning letting us know that it was due by the end of the day and asking us the status.

Oh, Wednesday morning was a bundle of problems. The burdens of the universe weighed heavily on MCF as always. I sent various e-mails asking for more information. My writer e-mailed even more people to let them know we probably weren't going to get it done by the end of the day without materials. I had planned to take a vacation day on Friday, my first of the year, and began to wonder if I'd have to come in to deal with the emergency. That's when my boss stopped by.

He's a good guy, my boss. He's reasonable, practical, efficient, fair and honest. I can't go into details here, but it's been a few years since I worked for someone like that. He told me that he caught wind of this extra flyer the day prior, and had someone else take care of it, since he knew I was busy. Normally, there's a little more notice on an assignment, and he made a point of letting the people know, even though someone on our staff still had to accommodate. I have to say he's really good about balancing the workload among his staff and dividing things equally. I might not be so lucky the next time one of these last-minute assignments pop up, but this was one I didn't have to worry about after all. I thanked him, and a few minutes after he left, my cell phone began buzzing.

I'd lost track of the time, and it was after noon. I didn't recognize the number but I answered anyway, since I was hoping the owner of the car would get to me before I called his insurance company. Much to my surprise and relief, it was him. He said they'd gotten all my messages and thanked me for being so cordial about everything. He said he'd be willing to take care of the damages and didn't want to go through his insurance since his “foreign au pair” was driving the vehicle. I guess that explains why she'd been hesitant to return my calls, and perhaps I scared them when I said I'd be calling their insurance company directly. I faxed him the invoice from the body shop, and now I'm just waiting to hear back that he's agreed to their estimate.

As I walked to town for lunch on a sunny day under a clear blue sky, I marveled at how all my problems had been lifted in the span of fifteen minutes. Everything I was worried about that morning was suddenly gone. Should I resign myself to my fate, that 2% odds for anyone else are 98% odds for me? Or should I have faith that all things work themselves out in time? Tomorrow could bring more problems. There will be more challenges at work and more inconveniences and unexpected surprises out there in the world. I'm sure this accident won't be the last time I get blindsided when minding my own business; it certainly wasn't the first. Tomorrow could bring more problems, but the next day could bring more solutions. I need to stop bemoaning my fate, and start celebrating my faith.