A funny thing happened on the way to the airport

Do you remember when you first learned to drive a stick? For many, it was a planned, thought out, and trained for event. If you're like me, you borrowed a car only to later learn that it was a stick, and knowing the principles, you ground'em 'til you found'em.

My bride's off to Dallas with our girls. They left this morning. Son #2 caught a flight this afternoon to visit son #1 for a week. My plan was to drop son #2 at the airport and take son #4 shopping for some things. Son #3 hemmed a little and hawed a little and finally decided not to join us.

I am praising God even now for that little bit of providence.

En route the airport in my mighty, mighty Taurus station wagon, I happened to notice (about half-way to the airport) that the car was rapidly on its way to an overheat. I pulled into the nearest parking lot, all the while wondering about the interesting timing of this event, pulled out my cell phone, and dialed son #3 still at home. The only vehicle left at the house, other than my motorcycle, was son #2's manual transmission auto-mobile. Son #3 has never driven one of those.

"Tyler (son #3), get Drew's keys (son #2) off the counter top and come get us. You got any questions?"

No panic. No trepidation. The lad had never touched a stick in his life. He's seen it done. Never been the driver. Ten minutes later, like he'd been doing it for years, son #3 rounds the corner and saves the day. Had he come with us, we'd be stranded in the 100 degree heat having to start calling friends, none of which would have been a sure bet to be able to get us in time to get son #2 to the airport.

I have found that the oddest things strike pride in my heart regarding my sons' maturity. This moment, as I have told son #3, still has me smiling.