Gas Pains

I have started a notoriously bad habit of letting my van run out of gas. I have tried to think of a good reason why I feel it necessary to run my van to fumes. It would be a lot easier on me, and the unfortunate souls who have come to rescue me, if I would get to a gas station at least 2 days faster. There is one silver lining, however, in testing the capacity of my gas tank. Chase has demonstrated an early ability to be able to recognize when he needs to turn to prayer. He has also demonstrated that he is developing an immense amount of faith.

On Wednesday, I was at it again. As we were heading down 800 West, on our way to Logan, I noticed that the little red line was dying an unfortunate death again. I swear that line is falling past "E" faster and faster. I chuckled that familiar chuckle and stated nervously to Chase that we had better be getting to a gas station.

As if on demand, Chase replied, "Should I hurry and say a prayer again?"

I smiled and said to go ahead. As Chase prayed a prayer that he has become all too familiar with, I drove to the end of the road. Chase finished his plea for another miracle on behalf of his neglectful mother while we sat at the intersection, waiting to turn. As the car idled there at a slight angle, the gas gauge readjusted and rose to the "E". Chase sucked in his breath. He burst out,

"Did you see that?! Oh, I am going to say a prayer right now, and thank Heavenly Father for giving us extra gas to make it to the gas station!"

There was nothing in this world that was going to get me to explain the scientific nature of gas tanks and gas gauges. I just drove into town, very grateful for little opportunities to teach a righteous little boy about prayer, and to watch him develop the faith to move mountains...and gas gauges.