It had been an uncanny week. Unbelievable challenges concerning some work issues had forced Mark to hit the ground running nonstop. The huge monster of a machine that demanded his attention was not cooperating with the imperative pressing deadlines. Mark was about to his wit’s ends. He was exhausted, out of ideas, out of time… yet the machine had to be tamed.  He’d worked through the weekend just in hopes of being back in production by Monday morning when the rest of his staff would arrive.

    To avoid admitting the obvious failure of this project, Mark took a break and called home to check on his parents and to talk to his dad about the Monster Machine. He always took comfort in his father’s advice and words. He verbally walked his dad through the problem with the machine and how it would not budge even with 80,000 lbs of steam built up; it had stubbornly locked up like Granddaddy’s old Mule, Big Kate. Robert told his son to just stop, go get something to eat and get some rest. He advised him to get up early the next morning and tackle it again, that he would be much more refreshed then. Robert assured his son that he could meet this challenge, that he would figure it out. Mark took his father’s advice and collapsed in his bed at his rental cabin not long after he hung up the phone.

Jessie had sat by silently as her husband talked to their son. Hands folded together, her prayers were already going up. Later that evening she emailed all family members asking for everyone to pray that God would come to Mark’s aide. He’d worked for months on this project and it was down to the wire. Sink or swim, the time was now. The business’ future was on the line.     

The next morning Mark arrived at the plant early. Once again “Big Kate” refused to budge. Finally Mark stopped and caught his breath. “Lord, I need your help here.” He felt as if he had the entire 80,000 lbs of steam pushing down on his shoulders.

    He picked up an oil gun and pumped 12 times on a specific point on Big Kate. He grabbed a hammer and hit the thick metal with one hard lick… and it budged. It moved. Big Kate had kicked it into gear and was off galloping like a spring colt. Mark stood there; hammer in hand looking in disbelief! It was working! The huge monster machine was working!!!

    Later he called his parents with the great news. Mark admitted that had it not been for his dad’s firm confidence in him, he could have never carried this task out to completion. He also admitted that God had been right there and answered our prayers to help him.  Mark had experienced God’s guidance throughout his recent job change. Trusting God had become a daily routine and God had blessed him by lacing hints of his presence throughout Mark’s day. He also orchestrated miracles by HIS-only design, leaving Mark and his family breathless in awe.

Taming “Big Kate” was just the latest Miracle.

    Monday afternoon Mark was ear-lobe deep in the drenches of work with “Big Kate” pulling the business toward the light of day. So much was left to do but all was moving nicely. When his phone rang he absent-mindedly answered. The strained voice on the other end carried a desperation Mark was all too familiar with. As He realized who he was speaking to, Mark found himself venturing back several months before. The memories came flooding back…

********************************

     One could have easily mistaken Mack for a life size rag doll. Slumped down in the seat of the truck he felt his world had just taken a nose dive. Mark looked over at his fourteen year old son and knew exactly how he felt but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.

    For years Mack had admired the older modeled Mustangs. 65’, 66’, 67’, ask him a question, he could answer you. Now the time was nearly here for his first car and of course this was his choice of ride. Finding an ad for one Mark and Mack had set out in pursuit of the car offered. It was a few hours drive but they felt it might be worth the travel. Sadly they were mistaken. Now headed back home Mack was just overcome with gloom.

    To change his son’s focus, Mark suggested Mack search for a place for them to eat lunch. They were just coming into Millington which offered several options. Suddenly Mack let out a blood curdling yep making Mark nearly lose his grip on the steering wheel. Mack’s hysteria made communication difficult but Mark got the gist that he needed to turn around and go back. In the parking lot of a Chinese restaurant sat a 66’ Mustang.  It was just what Mack had always dreamed of. They walked around it and decided to wait for the owners to return from their meal.

    Forty minutes later the owner and his teenage son walked out of the restaurant. After a bit of admiration Mark inquired if the car was for sale. The owner shook his head no, that he’d bought it for his son as he nodded toward his boy. Mark gave him his card and told him if he ever wanted to sell it, to give him a call. The entire 2 hour drive home was filled with Mack rattling off about the white Mustang in the Chinese restaurant parking lot. “Dad! Did you see it had…. It had …..”

*********************

    Mark listened on the phone as the man asked if he was the one who was interested in his 66’ Mustang a few months back. Mark said yes he was but they had already bought another car. The man’s voice was filled with desperation as he spilled out his situation of how he needed to liquidate anything he could or the IRS was going to start taking. He needed to sell the Mustang and he needed to sell it bad. Mark was a bit taken back by how distraught the man was. Thinking the man might be too overwhelmed to be making such decisions, Mark told him he’d have to get back with him. His belly churned as he hung up the phone. This was the car of his son’s dreams and it was for sale. Mack, now fifteen and armed with a driver’s permit & hardship license, was the proud owner of a blue 66’ fixer-upper Mustang. It needed lots of work but he could putter around in it back and forth to his grandparents’ home less than a mile down the road.

    Still in a mental fog from the phone call Mark reaches for his once-again ringing cell phone. This time it was Michelle, his wife. Mack had just called, he’d pulled into the driveway when something popped, smoke blew and the blue 66’ Mustang was broke down.  Mark thought he was caught in a tornado with things spinning around.

Mark’s new career change had landed him working 2 ½ hours from home in Middle Tennessee. He’d rented a century old log cabin to live in during the week, then commuting back home on weekends. With the deadline stress and ‘Big Kate’s’ issues he’d not gone home this past weekend. Being away from home can normally be taken in stride but becomes one of the hazards on days when things break back home. As the fog began to dissipate from him mind his thoughts began to clear as well. Mack’s breakdown was the cinch that prompted him to pursue the 66’ mustang in Millington.

 Tuesday afternoon Mark called the man back and asked if he was ok. The man, sounding better remained Solemn and held firm that he must sell the Mustang in order to pay his taxes.

Wednesday morning Mark arrived at work early, things were still running well and once he got the ball rolling for the day, he headed out for Millington, swinging by to pick up Michelle on his way through the state.