So, like I vowed last week, I’m going to think only lovely thoughts, as Philippians 4:8 recommends. Easy peasy. I will make myself focus on how our hotel room is clean and no one has broken into our car. And how I now have a full day in which to write this article. And how our family bailed “us” out of a travel nightmare when, in reality, Dave and I could be adding 28 hours of travel time to our trip to Mexico. Much about which to be thankful. Indeed. I will refuse to dwell on how a friend in Mazatlán asked if we could pick up a car part in Oklahoma City on our way to Mexico. Only a few hours out of our way, we could spend the night there and continue to the border the next morning at 6:00. Oops! None of the three buildings to which we were sent held the “part” we needed. It was a few miles away in a warehouse, but, oh no, that building closed an hour ago. We would spend the night and pick up the part at 8:00 when the office opened. Lovely thoughts. Lovely thoughts. Lovely thoughts. Dave entered the warehouse at 8:00 sharp. He exited at 8:40, empty-handed. The part could not be found. It was in the inventory guide, but had disappeared. “Must have been sold and not recorded or it was misplaced. So sorry.” That’s how our day started. The next night, we stayed two hours from the Mexican border. Rising early, we wanted to get to the crossing before the crowd. Mind you, we have made this trip multiple times. Entering the immigration office, we knew the protocol. Dave was in charge of making sure we had all the documents required to cross. I grabbed the envelope from our glove compartment. The first stop was the passport check office. We weren’t felons. Good to know. Second stop? Perhaps we were felons. I handed the lady behind the glass all of our paperwork, a copy of our car title, drivers’ licenses, proof of Mexico insurance, passports, etc. “Where is the legal title to your car?” I pointed to the COPY of our title. I turned to Dave. “Honey, where is the actual title?” He exited the building while I begged. “We live in Kansas. That’s 14 hours from here and then 14 hours back.” Senora’s “sorry” seemed insincere. When I met up with Dave at the car, he was going through his “special” briefcase, the one that carries every important document, every end-of-the-world-life-saving-item imaginable. “Maybe I put it in here.” I sat in the driver’s seat, thinking NOT lovely thoughts. Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way back to Kansas. Dave broke the silence. “Well, we sure messed this up, didn’t we?” I gasped. “We? WE? WE? How did ‘WE’ get blamed for this?” “Well, think about it. You could have double-checked the envelope.” And this is where my unlovely thoughts probably went too far. “Yes, and I could smack you upside your head with your briefcase too, couldn’t I?” Dave found that funny. I owed him an apology. No Christian speaks to her husband like that, especially after, just the week before, she has vowed to follow Paul’s words in Phil. 4:8: “…whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” Then again, Paul wasn’t married. What would he know?