Pass the Red Sludge

“I’m hungry too. Will you hand me that bowl?”

We sit in our 1970s Land Rover, eating day old stir-fry out of metal bowls. To our right is a small, green, concrete house. To our left is a steep dirt embankment, draped in vines and roots, and lightly feathered with small green ferns. I am amused that, despite present circumstances, our first reaction is to eat lunch, knowing that somehow God will work it out.

A few seconds before, we were happily bumping down a gravel road in Costa Rica, making our way to our farm, when suddenly our engine just sputtered to a halt. To a sane person, this would be a problem, but we are not sane people. At Palmas de Mamre, we are so used to things not working, especially that annoying yellow Land Rover, that it is no longer natural for us to panic when things go wrong. Instead, we start praying, and then start thinking, and G-d always seems to present a solution.

In this case, the solution came in the form of a friend that Ana had not seen in a long time, so long in fact that she could not remember who he was at first. This friend of Ana’s came driving down the road right about the time that we finished our food. On top of the random appearance of a long forgotten friend, the gentleman’s son just happened to be a mechanic who worked on Land Rovers. In just a few minutes, they had us driving down the road again. A few minutes later we broke down again, and this time the son showed up with a full set of tools, and while the father gave us a 3 hour ride, the son dismantled and cleaned the gas tank of our Land Rover, pouring a thick red paste of mud and rust from the bottom of the tank.

Is G-d not spectacular in the ways that he chooses to work?