IT!

For over 40 years, IT triumphed in my life.

I had wanted to defeat IT and had tried on several occasions, but never succeeded. I always backed out at the last minute. IT intimidated me, and I let IT.

IT wasn’t a daunting task. Nor was IT a bully or a terrorist or a warning to be avoided. IT wasn’t illegal or immoral or unethical, either. Not at all. IT was normal. A duty that daunted me nevertheless.

My husband did IT, my friends did IT, my mother even did IT, for crying out loud. What was wrong with me?  

To me, IT was like being stuck in an elevator or in an MRI or in a wooden box taped shut with duct tape and wrapped with wire! Just the thought of IT made me panic.

Ridiculous, really. How old am I, anyway? And the more I thought about IT, the worse IT got.

I was letting IT win when IT wasn’t even trying to win! The battle was in me, not in IT. So I decided that the time had come. IT and I were having a heart-to-heart, face-to-face, drive-by encounter.

First, I prepared, asking Ian to drive me through IT the week before, explaining one step at a time.

Then, refusing to tell anyone in case I failed, I climbed in my car, drove down the hill, around the corner, past the old pizza house, and into IT’s driveway.

All by myself.

For the first time ever!

So far, so good. Time for the next step.

Swiping my card, I waited for the sign to blink green, telling me to enter IT, whose near presence inspired yet another wave of panicky second thoughts. Why was I here?!?

The birds had torpedoed my white Honda, the junipers had joined the party, raining blue-black bombs of berries over what white surface was left, and then there was a yellow misty-muck, courtesy of the cedar trees, I assume. If my car was a teacher’s white board, I would have thrown it away and bought a new one.

IT’s time had come. Or mine, really.

And the sign flashed, “Enter, Enter, Enter….”

Remembering to fold in the side mirrors and to turn on the wind-shield wipers, I followed the instructions, took a deep breath, and entered IT.

And the encounter was deafening!

IT was The Birds, attacking with a fearful force, dive-bombing my car with hail-like intensity, while screeching Jaws-like and producing fear in me that Hitchcock and Spielberg would have enjoyed. I wonder if either director drove through car-washes while producing movies. Inspiring horror-show sound effects, for sure. Score one for IT.

And then the persistent pounding of the Pepto-Bismol squirts, sliming my car, leaving pink puddles of goo that certainly would have been an inspiration for Ghost Busters.

But who was I going to call? My phone was dead! Yikes! What would I do if I got stuck in IT? Would I dare to confront the attacking water, climb out of my car, and walk home? Boy, that’d make The Bellville Times for sure! “Panicked Woman Flees Killer Car Wash!”  

So I did what I normally do in any traumatic event: I pulled out my journal and wrote, scribbling intensely while listening to the deafening shrills of a 1,000 battering birds and feeling the stabbing fear from the great white foam circling my car.  

OK.

So I’m over-dramatizing!

Do ya think?

But claustrophobia and I have been acquainted for awhile, and he always brings his friend panic, who invites other pals to play.

The important thing was that I was in IT. That’s what mattered. Not that the car needed cleaning. I really could have done that at home.

So I watched and listened and learned. Not about IT, but about God, who teaches us even at a car wash. “There ain’t no tellin’ who ya might meet/A movie star or maybe even an Indian Chief.” Or maybe even God, who was celebrating with me in a way that no one else could. I was doing something I had been too timid to do before even though it seemed so silly. And God got IT! And He was happy about that, too. So I clapped, right there in my car, and thanked Him for being Lord of IT all!   

And then, finally, the red sign flashed -- “Thank you; Please Exit” -- which I did quite quickly.  Rolling over IT’s last final bump, driving by the green Sago Palms waving in the wind, and passing the yellow-lettered “Thank you, See you soon!” sign, I left IT behind, happier now after the encounter of dealing with yet another fear that needed to be faced.

“Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth” (Psalm 46:10 NIV). And exalted even in a car wash.  

And thank you, God, for stilling our fear whatever IT may be. Amen.