Minivans, Chipotle Napkins, and God's Goodness

I am a minivan owner.

That still sounds weird, although I’ve been told it will grow on me. Ashley has been working diligently for several months to soften me to the idea, and I finally gave in two weeks ago—under one condition: That she participate in the bartering process.

The last time we bought a vehicle, I began working the salesman to have the price lowered when Ashley became incredibly embarrassed. To say she didn’t like that part of the process is an understatement. She actually ducked out and hid in the car. She later apologized, and agreed to stand by me the next time I began to negotiate the price of a vehicle.

As excited as she was about getting a new van, I could tell she was nervous about the back and forth price negotiation that was inevitably coming. At the same time, she realized that she didn’t really have a choice. If she wanted this van, she had to stick it out and watch me engage in this important but painful process.

As we pulled up to the dealership, I offered some last minute coaching, “Ash, these people are not our friends. They are going to play the nice card, but don’t let them soften us. We have to be firm on our price.” She hesitantly agreed, took a deep breath, and followed me inside. It didn’t take long for a man with a seemingly genuine smile to approach us and offer a handshake. I gave him a reserved greeting and communicated what we were looking for. He did his job well, found the right van, and after some negotiation accepted our offer. It was actually pretty painless. Ashley looked giddy that the bartering was over and the van was about to be turned over to us.

I walked with the salesman to his office in order to fill out some paperwork when the conversation took an interesting turn. It turns out that this man and his wife had recently moved to Colorado from the east coast to attend a local Bible college. They moved here without jobs, friends, or anything else—except the confidence that God was leading them.

He sat back in his chair, dropped his pen, and his eyes filled with tears as he recounted God’s faithfulness. Story after story spilled out of him as he explained that God has provided for them in every way.

“That sounds just like God,” I said with a smile as I looked across the table at my new friend. “He is so good like that.”

We signed the papers, said our goodbyes, and loaded up in the minivan. I was still thinking about his stories as we arrived home, so I went to the kitchen to locate some old Chipotle napkins that we had written on from a few years prior. As odd as it may seem, Ashley and I have occasional Chipotle dates where we dream, set goals, and write out prayer requests to God on Chipotle napkins. I found the napkins, read the prayer requests, and smiled as I realized God had faithfully granted each one. In fact, he had gone above and beyond and gave us more than we asked for. It was good to be reminded.

Sensing I was on a roll, I flipped one over and had Ashley agree to one more thing:

Amen. Let it be.