We were sitting on the side of the road, just off I-70, and it was starting to feel like 2021 all over again. 

We had just completed our Colorado tour and had left the Denver suburbs early Monday morning in hopes of arriving in Evansville late that evening. The trip had been an adventure of the fullest sort, and with Zach and Emma just a few weeks away from leaving for college, it had been a wonderful opportunity to share a memorable family experience before things changed for good.

All had been going well as we approached the bridge over the Missouri River, straining to see the Katy Trail that we had traversed multiple times years ago while living in St. Louis. But as the bridge crested and I attempted to accelerate out of the river valley, I was met with an all-to-familiar lack of response. It suddenly became clear that our Nissan NV passenger van was not shifting as it should, and the non-responsiveness continued as I passed the bridge.

As we pulled off onto a rural exit to further assess the situation, we were transported to three years ago when our transmission went out completely in the middle of nowhere in Colorado. What ensued back then became an unexpected adventure of multiple proportions.

Three years later, fortunately (this time) just five hours from Evansville, it seemed we were in a similar predicament. As we drove a little further, trying to discern what our vehicle could and couldn’t do, and also contacted AAA, it was finally decided that we would drive slowly to a Nissan dealership that we had serendipitously located about five miles away in Columbia. Arriving at the dealership, we relayed our precarious situation to a salesperson, who assured us that they would evaluate our NV first thing the next morning. After dropping off most of the family at a nearby hotel, and gingerly driving the NV back to leave at the dealership, I arrived with the realization that I could no longer back up the car, and could do nothing more than drive slowly in first gear. 

The next morning, we began to assess our options as it seemed that a diagnostic of our NV would be delayed due to a backed-up slot of vehicles to be seen. With me scheduled back at work the following day, we looked at the possibility of a one-way rental vehicle (or two), only to find out that none of the agencies had any available this week. Greyhound became another possibility, but this wouldn’t be available until the following day. Options were running slim, and we really didn’t want to implore family to make the almost five-hour drive to come pick us up, leaving the NV to retrieve later.

Walking down Providence Road after my initial trip to the dealership the next morning, I was losing hope of an immediate resolution, and having been stuck in Colorado for almost a week three years earlier, I was starting to see a much more extended course than any of us desired. I decided to call the dealership again and was encouraged to find out that, despite their packed schedule, the NV was being looked at. After arriving and waiting further, I was greeted with an unexpected but promising message: the transmission had been empty of fluid, but upon being refilled, the mechanic indicated that it seemed to be driving normally again. The culprit? A slow fluid leak in a tiny seal linking the transmission and the drive shaft.

In hearing about what happened three years prior, he suspected that this had been the cause of our previous transmission’s demise. Fortunately, this time, it appeared that our transmission had been rehabilitated, and with his instruction about how to do periodic checks (and filling as needed) on the rest of our trip home (given the seal was not available at this time), we set off for Evansville. Just under five hours later, we pulled into our driveway, feeling super grateful that we had arrived on this particular day.

In life, we might find ourselves doing so many good things, and being blessed in countless ways, all of which provide opportunities for meaning, connection and adventure. But for all that might bring us much promise, most of us, if honest, have aspects of our lives that threaten to derail an otherwise positive existence. It might be chronic anxiety or excessive emotional reactivity, or maybe it is repeated issues with not prioritizing sleep or embracing a healthier lifestyle in general. It may be unresolved trauma, or a tendency to communicate poorly due to fears of judgment or shame, or obsessions of an undesirable sort. Whatever the issue, it serves as a persistent threat to us and those around us.

The challenge is that addressing this particular issue is not only often inconvenient and requires sustained effort, but is also uncomfortable and even painful at times. Amid a busy, demanding life, it is easy to rationalize that we can manage to get by without engaging in the soul-searching work of seeking out a better course. For some, with decades of experience in dealing with this “slow leak,” it seems almost easier to deal with the known, even with its obvious traps, than to take on the uncertain pathway of progress. And so repeatedly, we turn a blind eye to what our intuition is telling us, and barrel ahead hoping that it will all work out, even when experiences in the past have taught us otherwise. Meanwhile, hidden beneath all of the dissonance is an opportunity missed to not only take a safer, healthier course, but one that could benefit not just us and the current generation, but ones to come.

Truth be told, sitting on the side of I-70, I found myself transported back not just three years, but just a day earlier. With our NV sitting in our friend’s driveway in Colorado, I had noticed peculiar drip points beneath the cab of the vehicle that didn’t seem to be drying the same way as the condensation from the air conditioner. Smelling and touching it on my tongue, I couldn’t detect any obvious smell of fluid, but each time I came back to those spots on the driveway, something seemed not quite right — as the mechanic would later confirm. But I rationalized to myself that it must not be significant, having already driven 30+ hours without issue, especially since it wasn’t under the engine block. Furthermore, it was Sunday, and an attempt to locate a mechanic to check the fluids and this particular dripping might not only be inconvenient, but lead to further delay in our plan to leave early the following morning.

Yet deep within me, I knew that in not trusting my gut, I was taking a chance that was further reinforced by the tightness and uncertainty I felt in leaving the following morning, and even after around 10 hours of driving. The reality is that ignoring this could have been way more costly than a couple of hotel rooms and a minor repair cost if it wasn’t for some very fortunate, some might say providential, circumstances. It’s a lesson that is important for me to be reminded of in the future.

We get only one life. When we are engaged in fun, pleasant activities, it’s natural to just want more of what feels good. But all of us are confronted with our weaknesses and demons at times, and it is easy to rationalize that they aren’t that bad or that we should just focus on much more immediate, tangible demands, including those that may involve our kids. Yet deep within us, there is a voice that desires to be heard, one that compels us to forego the shame and discomfort in pursuing growth — growth that can ultimately have a much greater impact than many other activities in which we invest a significant amount of time, effort and money. 

A ruined transmission is one thing. But failed relationships, serious health problems, and even a lifetime of conflict, uncertainty or discontent due to a malleable factor — these are at an altogether different level. We owe it to ourselves and each other not to ignore the slow leaks in our lives and to make sure that we further tighten the seals that connect key aspects of who we are, and who we are called to be.

Otherwise, we might find ourselves stranded in places that we would never desire, wondering how it’s possible that so many positive things are overtaken by one persistent area of weakness that in our heart, we knew had a greater effect than we desired it to have.