Think about the last time you broke a rule (a big one, not just ripping the tags off your pillows). Were you burned, or did things turn out for the best?
Today’s prompt brings to mind our driver Bilal. We (my late husband R and I) had to stay in Rawalpindi for R’s chemotherapy. We had rented out a suite. We had a bedroom, sitting, and a dinning area, a bathroom, dressing room, and a small kitchen. I would cook R’s favorites, so that something could pass down his throat. Mostly they were soups. It was our home (for one and a half year) away from our home in Peshawar.
The chemo sessions took 15-21 days. We would go back home for two-three weeks, then come back for another round.
The minute we were on the highway, Bilal changed into another person. He would be speeding over the limit. We would be literally flying on the road. My chief worry was having an accident.
When he would go over the speed limit, and keep accelerating, I would tell him to slow down. Few minutes later he would be doing it all over again. I was fed up with telling him the same thing again. My sick husband had to suffer my cries, and Bilal’s disobedience. My heart used to be in my mouth watching Bilal chasing a car ahead of us, and banging into it.
Short of finding another driver, I didn’t know what to do? No other driver was willing to stay away from his family for two to three weeks at a time. Besides my husband thought him trustworthy enough as not to run away with our car, or do any abduction of us.
We put up with Bilal for quite some time, till we found another one to take his place. I am thankful to God for surviving Bilal’s antics.