In 2005, I left my home in Maryland to live in Georgia with some girlfriends for the summer. I looked forward to this new adventure, and also to narrowing the 600-mile distance between me and Jason. Now I could drive three hours to see him instead of eleven. And thanks to the hospitality of Jason’s friends, my Chattanooga accommodations never cost me a dime. My car needed a surprising number of oil changes that summer. But even more surprising was the number of lessons I learned from behind the wheel.

My first trip to Chattanooga was anything but easygoing. An hour into my trek, I got trapped in Atlanta traffic. Then my “Service Engine” light started flashing. I’ll take care of it later, I thought, secretly hoping my car was just overreacting to the caterpillar pace. But when I accelerated, my little automatic wouldn’t shift properly. My car had settled into fourth gear and roared in protest if I tried to go any faster.

Putting along in the slow lane, I rummaged around for my cell phone. I needed male expertise. After trying unsuccessfully to reach Jason, I called my dad back in Maryland. I knew very well he couldn’t pick me up or anything, but I needed some assurance. He calmly advised me to drive slowly and pull over if my engine started to overheat.

I had no desire to get stranded halfway between Commerce and Chattanooga. Not only would it take my friends from both cities an hour and a half to pick me up, but it would also waste precious time -- time I could be spending with Jason. I took a breath, gripped the steering wheel, and asked God to help me make it to Tennessee. I also asked my girlfriends to pray.

After watching other cars zoom past me for two hours, I finally saw signs for Chattanooga. Almost there, almost there! As I rounded a scenic bend in the highway, I spotted not only the city of my beloved, but also two beautiful rainbows. I felt so relieved, I cried.

With the first rainbow, it seemed like God was saying He’d be faithful to get me to Chattanooga. With the second, that He’d keep me faithful once I got there. Jason and I both desired to have a pure relationship, free from premarital sexual involvement. But I still felt timid in my ability to withstand the natural temptation to get too intimate too quickly. Yet here, en route to my testing ground, God had painted a portrait in the sky to remind me of His presence. He was with me always. Even on the highway to Chattanooga. I brushed a tear from my cheek and thanked Him.

Then I got lost.

I hate getting lost. Hate, hate, hate it. I was already running late due to my fifty mile-per-hour commute, and now I couldn’t find my way a mere ten miles from my destination. Will I ever get there? Fortunately being a woman, I had no trouble pulling into the first gas station I saw to ask for directions. After talking with the man behind the counter, I hurried back to the car. When I turned the key, the “Service Engine” light vanished! And to my unexpected joy, my car once again shifted into fifth gear without a fuss.
After stopping once more at the Chattanooga Choo Choo Hotel for additional directions, I eventually crossed the Tennessee River and found Jason. He spied me at an intersection, and I gladly called “shotgun” as he took the driver’s seat. As far as I was concerned, he could keep it for the rest of our relationship.