Oh Lord won't you buy me a new Chevrolet
I had lost everything that would help a new attorney to be successful.
Imagine me in my office, sitting back in my chair, drumming my fingers on the desktop, waiting for the phone to ring, and not really caring whether it does or not.
Of course HOPING it rings and the phone ringing are two different things. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t ring since I didn’t have any advertising out in the world that people would find and feel motivated thereby to call me.
While on the one hand I felt condemned to waiting for the phone to ring for eternity, I was still hopeful that I would somehow magically acquire clients. I had decided to trust in God to bring those clients to me in spite of the lack of advertising, phone numbers, web presence, etc.
It was just me and God, sitting in a bail bond building, waiting for clients who needed my assistance to contact me.
And then my Jaguar broke down. It wasn’t a late model Jag, but it was a Jag. Now, I had no Jag with which to impress my non-existent clients.
I was driving my Jag down Main Street from the 5 freeway in Santa Ana when my brakes went out. I kept making right turns on these small side streets until I could coast the car to a stop. You don’t know how lucky this was. Main Street in Santa Ana in the middle of a weekday afternoon is really crazy. But this particular day, there were no cars for some reason. So I kept circling this particular block, making right turns, until I was able to coast to a stop.
In case you didn’t know, parts for a Jaguar are really expensive. One time my fan went out. On a normal, every day car, it would cost about $40 to replace it. On the stupid Jag, it cost about $180.
I left the car and started walking to where my office was located when I passed a sign for a law office of an attorney with whom I attended law school back in the 90s. I decided to stop in and say hello.
I tend to be a pretty forthright person, and as we conversed, I told him about my car, and my financial situation, and he immediately (in retrospect, I discovered) set out to take advantage of my plight. But at the time, it was God-sent. He asked if I would make appearances for him on criminal cases for $40 an hour.
To me, at that time, having no income whatsoever, I was jubilant. $40 an hour!!!
But I had no car.
But in my newly adopted attitude of trusting in God, I didn’t care. God was going to find me a new car. And he did. I just didn’t expect it to be an old, rusting, Chevrolet.
But that was the exciting part about trusting in God. I needed a car. The guy who owned the bail bond building found out that my Jag broke down and he, out of the blue, offered me the Chevrolet for free. Not a cool attorney car, but it would get me around. I could hide it easily enough if I ever was retained again by a real client.
(To be continued.)