Entitled Me

I have a book on my nightstand that I've started reading.  It's by my favorite blogger and is called "Raising Grateful Kids in an Entitled World."  It's mocking me today because I'm realizing that I'm the one who's entitled.

Last night, my car died.  Again.  It's not really a surprise, we've known it has had issues for a while now.  In fact, it's had issues since we bought it.  We got "taken" and I'm still angry over it.  It was by a friend of a friend, so that makes it even harder.

Anyway, I was on my way to the outlet mall to look for some clothes I need for my new job next week and it started acting funny so I turned around.  I was hoping I would make it all the way home, but no such luck.  It died in the middle of 380.  At least it was close to a 7-11 and there were 2 kind men who pulled over and pushed me into the parking lot.  And my friend who manages an auto repair shop came and took a look at it and took me home since Brian was out of town.

This morning, I dropped off Hope at the barn and decided to go try to start it again.  And it turned over, but had a bad knocking sound.  So Brian went back and sure enough it started, but sounded like it did a few years ago when it "threw a rod" and the engine died (don't ask me exactly what the rod does and why it shouldn't be thrown--all I know is that when it is, it's reeeeeealllly bad). 

So my emotions have been on a roller coaster.  I go from being grateful that I didn't have to sit in the middle of the road for long to "why does this always happen to me?" pity parties.  And I've been praying all morning, but I'm not really sure how I should pray.

God tells us He wants to pour out our heart to Him and be honest.  Well, I honestly want a fun car.  And if it started with J and ended with EEP, I would be over the moon.  But should I really pray for that?  Or should I just pray for a car to get me to and from where I need to be?  Should I just be grateful for 4 wheels and an engine and not worry about what kind or what it looks like? 

The entitled part of me wants the Jeep.  And even feels like I deserve it--I've worked hard and have earned the right to sit in a car that makes me happy. 

Then that small voice creeps in and I'm reminded of all the blessings I currently have.  The fact that we have one truck that runs great is more than many people have.  And that we both have flexible schedules and can share a vehicle if needed for a while.  And that my car is paid for so at least I don't have to pay anything on it while it's dead. 

But I still want to stomp my feet and cross my arms over my chest and throw the biggest tantrum you've ever seen.

So maybe I don't need to read that book for my kids.  Maybe I need to read it for me.