Smelling Like a Rose??

by Beth Duewel

Some people can pull off the everyday without a hitch. Although I admire those type—I am not one of them.

Take running your vehicle through a car wash, for example. Ordinary people do this very thing everyday, without a problem even. Me? Well, I am not one of those ordinary people. No, I am extraordinarily versed in…well, you be the judge.

It was a sunny, wintry-warm day. Since something about sunny means clean when it comes to your car, I decided to rid my new-used vehicle of its blanket of sirt (salt and dirt). Besides, I was feeling just a little proud of my new wheels and wanted to show off the purchase with a shine.

 So, I picked the best carwash, and even paid the extra two-dollars for the wash that promised to leave my vehicle sparkling and “smelling like a rose.” (What woman can resist that promo?)

The sudsy ordeal began common enough. Line up the wheels—check. Turn on my headlights—double check. Makes sure the windows are all up, yes. Now, the only thing left to do was sit back and enjoy the ride, right?

Uh…wrong.

Halfway through the relaxing siesta, I noticed a slight drip impending from the sun roof. A little nuisance, easily remedied—I thought.

 Fiddling with the button above my head, I quickly surmised that because the vehicle was newly-used, and because there were exactly three positions that I guessed would close the sunroof, I could not secure a comfy, dry fit. In other words...Gusher!

It’s not easy to sweat when you're getting soaking wet—but I did. My fingers fumbled with the window mechanism, every push opening the roof wider and WIDER, until ice-cold, bubbly water whooshed like a waterfall over my head. Sigh.

I had a thought. If I couldn't stop water from flooding in, could I pull an emergency stop on the outside? No, the swishing of the giant toothbrush on my driver’s door told me what my sopping head already knew—I was a prisoner in my own rain storm.

But wait. Through the steam I spotted hope—a dryer. Not just any dryer. No, this was a mega-watt, super-dryer designed to suck a gnat off the side of a barn. One problem. I wasn’t a gnat. Another problem, this dryer didn’t suck, it blew. In fact, it blasted all the water—that was happily resting on the roof of my car—right through the porthole. And you guessed it, onto my head. Bubbly, rose smelling suds shimmied down my spine and into my britches. I was sitting in an SUV sized dunk tank.

Pride (even just a little of it), can be a terrible thing to have. Only God knows what it takes to keep a grown woman humble…and soaking wet. Proverbs 16:18 warns, “Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall.” Or in my case: before a “waterfall.” And when you are soggy and cold to your toes, you graciously accept the white towels the workers shove at you to sop up your face (even if they have been shining hubcaps with them all day).

 I have to give the kind carwash staff credit; they held their smiles and snickers as long as possible. Even though, when I glanced in my rearview mirror, I thought I spied a few doubled over and lying on the ground. In pain no doubt.

Oh well, it wasn't all a wash. Besides, being a wet lesson on what a little bit of pride gets you; I figure I got what I paid for—plus my extra two dollars worth. Even if it was me, and not my car, that came out “smelling like a rose.”
              

Published in Proverbs 31 Woman Magazine March 2006

Copyright © 2006 - Elizabeth Duewel. All rights reserved.