Black Hands

Black Hands (a wired title but its aimed to hook people in, and I promise it will make sense by the end of this post).

Well tonight was a seemingly normal night; we had our women's book club (at my youth pastors house [this information will be useful later]), and it went really well in my opinion and i am so exited to start our new book - Max Lucado, learning to have a heart just like His, Just Like Jesus. He's like my favourite author but that's another story.

Anyways the night came to an end and my friend went to leave. She got not even 10 meters down the road before she realised that her tyre was flat. She came back inside and explained her predicament. So those who were left (at the book club that is), went outside to investigate.

On examination the tyre clearly needed to be changed. so we popped the boot and found the spear tyre. I attempted to unscrew the bolt thing that holds the tyre in place but it was rusted over. My youth pastor and his wife went to find a torch (a pretty pink Disney one at that) and a pair of pliers. He (my youth pastor) used the pliers to unscrew the bolt and it snapped clean off; maybe it wasn't the ideal way to get the tyre out but nevertheless the spear and slightly flat tyre was out.

We jacked the car up slightly, then loosened the bolts, then jacked the car up more, and unscrewed the bolts completely.Off came the tyre.

The culprit was a huge Bolt, which makes sense there's been a lot of building going on around that area, so my friend must have driven over it.

So we lined up the spear tyre with the screws on the wheel and fastened it back up. by this stage everyone is hovered around staring at us (my youth pastor and myself) changing this tyre. And it's freezing cold, (at least the rain held off until we were finished).

The spear tyres on and very flat so we went and got a mini pump, My youth pastor had to move his car so the pump would reach the cigarette-lighter in the car, I turned the pump on and about 20 hours later the tyre was pumped up (ok so that was an exaggeration but it did take at least 10 minutes).

The car was finally drivable, so we packed every thing away and my friend was ready to 'hit the road'. I followed her to the petrol station and taught her how to pump up her tyres. She was very grateful and amazed that I knew how to change a tyre, I was somewhat surprised also, I hadn't really changed a tyre without my dad with me before. Yay.

I got home and immediately told Dad how I changed a tyre he was so proud. I love that feeling when you've accomplished something and people are proud of what you've achieved. Shortly after telling my folks what had happened I wrote this post which is why it's titled 'Black Hands' - because my hands are still black, I was too excited about writing this post that I didn't get a chance to wash them yet.

Who knew such a seemingly normal night could turn into one of excitement? Well God did.