Choosing Joy on the Side of I-635

Monday evening was one of those days that felt like a lifetime packed into a few short hours.

It started in Steubenville, Ohio, at Franciscan University, where my daughter Brenna graduated from college this past weekend.

As a father, there are moments you never forget. Watching your child walk across a stage to receive their diploma is one of them. Sitting there with my family, seeing Brenna smiling in her cap and gown, filled me with deep pride and gratitude.

It’s hard to put into words what it feels like to watch your child reach a milestone like that. You think about the years of hard work, sacrifices, prayers, late nights, challenges, growth, and all the moments in between that led to that one walk across the stage.

It was a beautiful day. Or at least it started that way.

Not long after we began the long drive home to Texas, things got, how shall I put it…interesting.

The fun started with car trouble. Specifically, my daughter’s car decided to not start.

After doing some troubleshooting, we determined it was the battery. Not exactly the ideal way to begin a long road trip home, but sometimes life doesn’t consult your plans before changing them.

Since we had another vehicle, I told my wife and the rest of the family to continue the drive home while I stayed behind to deal with the battery issue. Eventually, I got the battery replaced, got the car running again, and finally started the rest of the 5ish-hour drive back to Texas by myself.

Honestly, the drive was going pretty well.

I caught up on podcasts and audiobooks I had been wanting to listen to for a while. In many ways, it became a rare opportunity for quiet reflection. I thought about Brenna graduating. I thought about how quickly life moves. I thought about how blessed I am.

Then I reached Dallas and was driving down I-635 when I heard it. A deep, hard thunk.

My first thought was, “Surely not.”

About ten seconds later, it became obvious. Flat tire.

Now, under normal circumstances, a flat tire is more of an inconvenience than a crisis. But this wasn’t some quiet country road or empty parking lot. This was I-635. Cars were flying past me at 70 miles per hour or faster at 10 pm.

Thankfully, I was able to pull over behind some pylons that gave me at least a little protection (I snapped the photo at the top of this page to let my wife know where I was). But I’m not going to lie…it was intense. Every passing truck shook the car. Every speeding vehicle reminded me how vulnerable you are standing just a few feet from traffic moving at highway speeds.

With the help of my iPhone flashlight and ChatGPT, which told me where to locate the tire and jack, I got the tire changed, packed everything back up, and eventually made it home safely.

But the reason I’m writing this isn’t really about dead batteries or flat tires.

It’s about perspective.

Throughout every challenge that day, I made a conscious decision not to panic. I did my best to stay calm and even choose joy.

Not fake positivity. Not pretending things weren’t frustrating. But genuine gratitude.

And honestly, one thought kept coming back to me over and over again while I stood on the side of I-635 changing that tire:

“Thank You, God, that this was me and not my 21-year-old daughter.”

That thought changed everything. Suddenly, the inconvenience didn’t matter nearly as much. The traffic didn’t matter. That one, ever so kind, I-635 driver honking at me since I was apparently in their way while changing the tire didn’t matter.

Because what could have been a terrifying and dangerous situation for my daughter became something I was equipped to handle.

Life gives us moments like this all the time. We can choose frustration, panic, anger, and self-pity. Or we can pause long enough to recognize the blessings hidden inside the inconvenience.

I’m not saying that’s always easy. But I am saying it changes things.

Sometimes choosing joy isn’t about pretending life is perfect.

Sometimes it’s simply thanking God that you’re strong enough to carry the burden instead of someone you love.

And Monday evening, standing on the side of I-635 with cars flying past me, that perspective made all the difference.

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