My heart raced wildly as the early-morning traffic hurdled toward me. Bursts of screeching tires and tooting horns just planted more fear within me.

I don’t know what to do! I’m trying, but it won’t budge! my thoughts shouted as I grasped the key tighter, digging it deeper into the ignition. But my efforts were rewarded with empty silence and flashing dashboard lights. I flew out of the car, slammed the door, and with waving hands acting as a caution light, I desperately looked for a good Samaritan and cringed as halting tires came closer and closer to the vehicle sitting dead in the middle of the road.

Just when it seemed as if my pleas for help were in vain, a rescuer appeared. “Hurry! Get in the car and put it in neutral!” he shouted. Like a mighty warrior he clutched the passenger door and pushed with all his might. The wheels turned slowly and sluggishly headed toward safety.

“I’m a mechanic,” my new friend announced. “Let me see how I can help you.” Those words were music to my ears. I explained that the problem was likely the battery, and as I waited patiently for the car to be fixed, my thoughts arranged the firm speech I would have with my brother about fixing the battery. My thoughts were interrupted by an obscene word from my rescuer that was completely unnecessary.

“Lady, this is no battery problem! You put the wrong fuel in your car!”

It all made sense now. My brother was going to kill me! I had ruined his car! But my rescuer reassured me that even though it would be a long, tedious, and costly process, the problem could be fixed. After spending eight exhausting hours and $400, I pulled out of the makeshift garage and headed home.

Thoughts of how a seemingly small mistake could be so costly flooded my mind. How could I have made such a crazy mistake? The habit of filling up my dad’s car with diesel was so engraved in me that I had not stopped for one minute to process that I was at the wrong fuel pump.

So I tried to counteract thoughts of being a victim of misfortune with object lessons that the ordeal offered me as a Christian. The more I thought about it, the clearer the lessons became.

As Christians, how many times have we unknowingly placed the wrong fuel in our minds and bodies without thinking about its effects on our lives? Do we ignore Paul’s admonition to stop and ponder if what we eat, drink, and do gives glory to God (1 Cor. 10:31)? The small indiscretions of unhealthy eating, flirting, immoral media, sips of alcohol, tastes of an illicit drug, may often seem so innocent and harmless. Then, without warning, our lives stall.

But thanks to God’s grace, we are given the choice to surrender and plead for His unbiased love and forgiveness. And though to us it may be a long, tedious, and costly process, God’s rescue plan always comes through.

As Christians, we will not have all the answers to the major or even mundane life choices we have to make. So why not ask God to show us the best way? It is possible that the fuel that works well for others may not be what His fuel is for us. It is important that we place our trust in God, lean not on our own understanding, and in all things acknowledge Him (Prov. 3:5, 6). Though the lives of others can be a positive example for us, God has a unique purpose that each individual must fulfill.

So the next time your life stalls, don’t panic. Surrender your problems to the Master Fixer—Jesus Christ. The repair process may be tedious, long, and costly, but the end result is worth it all.