“I am thankful for the wind. I am thankful for the wind. I am thankful for the wind.”

I can’t remember if I said those words in my head or out loud, but I do know that I repeated them over and over again. It was day four of a six-day road trip that I was taking to Atlanta, Ga., which was to be my new home.

Several years ago my life was a blur. I had given away most of my belongings and what remained was loaded into my tiny red coupe. Despite the fact that it was thirteen years old, I was confident in my little car. I had it thoroughly inspected by a mechanic and was assured that it would survive the trip. I knew that what my car lacked in trunk space, it more than made up for in gas mileage, gumption, and overall cuteness.

So, I set off with my best friend (who had kindly offered to take the trip with me) at the wheel. I sat in the passenger’s seat with my puppy, Sparta, on my lap and stared out of the window marveling at the beauty of nature.

We were having a blast during our trip! We relaxed by the budget motel pools, we met people from around the world, improvised meals in supermarket parking lots, and sang at the top of our lungs to whatever was on the radio.

And then, it happened.

Somewhere between Oklahoma City, Okla. and Little Rock, Ark., the car’s air conditioner stopped working. I reminded myself that things could have been worse. The air conditioner could have broken when we were in the Arizona desert. And it wasn’t really that bad, when you have the windows down and are traveling 65 mph, you hardly miss the air conditioner.

And then, (the other) it happened.

Somewhere between Little Rock, Ark. and Nashville, Tenn., we hit traffic and were forced to sit in sweltering humidity for two and a half hours. Every once in a while, a gust of wind would come in and give us three seconds of relief from our suffering and I would repeat, “I am thankful for the wind. I am thankful for the wind.”

This may not seem remarkable to some, but I was quite impressed with myself. For someone with a temper like mine, thanking God for the wind in lieu of kicking and screaming was a new and welcome change.

When we got to Nashville we found an amazing mechanic who offered to fix the car very quickly and for a very reasonable price. Seeing my license plate he exclaimed, in a thick Tennessee accent, “How’d you make it all the way over here from California?!”

I smiled as I replied, “Gratitude.”

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:18, NIV).

Jael Amador writes from New York, New York.

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