The Sorrow That Saved Me
Yesterday started like one of those mornings. You know the ones.
It was our scheduled DMV day—a necessary evil to finally get our Real IDs. I had planned it ahead (because let’s be honest, I’m the planner in the house). I didn’t want us carrying passports for every domestic trip like we’re boarding an international flight to Timbuktu. So yes, I booked it for both me and my husband at 9:30 a.m and 9:40a.m..
But when 9:00 a.m. hit… so did my anxiety.
I could see the route, the distance, and that dreadful ETA clock ticking. Every mom knows that feeling of racing against time, heart thumping with a mix of guilt and “we got this.” But I have to admit—deep breath here—I was part of the reason we were cutting it close. I didn’t say it then, but I own it now. That’s the thing about hindsight—it humbles you.
We made it to the DMV and as we were checking in, I felt a sigh of relief. I had everything. Or so I thought. I proudly handed over my documents... until the rep looked up at me and said, “You’re missing your driver’s license and your social security card.”
Excuse me, what? (My thoughts silently running through my mind at that time)
I had my passport, my Illinois ID, my proof of residency—basically everything short of the secret code to the universe—but forgot two of the most important items. I blinked, frozen. How did I miss that?
But God’s grace met me there.
The DMV rep kindly said, “Take a photo and wait for your number. Just bring your driver’s license to complete the Real ID process.”
That was the hope I clung to. I sat with my husband (his process was separate) and waited. He got called in first, then my turn came.
I walked to the counter thinking I’d be done in five minutes, but nope. Another plot twist.
The new rep reviewing my documents said he couldn’t proceed with my Real ID after all. My heart sank. I calmly (miraculously) explained that another rep told me I could continue once I brought my driver’s license. I told the truth—not in anger, but in honesty. Because how many times do we just accept confusion instead of clarifying it for the next person?
He paused, apologized, and said he didn’t know who had given me that instruction. Then he walked away to ask his manager. I stood there praying silently, “Lord, please…”
And then—God moment.
And in that pause, I’ve found God waiting for me.
The rep came back and said I could return within one hour (11:30am to return) and go straight to his booth to finish the process. He handed me a note and gave me the green light.
It takes 30 minutes to get home. 30 minutes to get back. A perfect hour.
I dashed like the floor was lava. But this time, I didn’t rush in fear. I moved in grace. I didn’t take the second chance lightly.
Five minutes to spare, I returned with my driver’s license and social security card in hand.
I made it.
But more importantly—I grew from it.
Sitting in that DMV lobby, scrambling back and forth, I found myself reflecting deeply. Rushing has a ripple effect. Worry has a cost. And assuming I had everything—without checking—led me into a moment of humble accountability.
I had to face the sorrow of my own missteps.
Not the shameful, heavy sorrow that crushes—but the kind that leads to mercy. The kind that says, “Slow down. Be still. Let God guide you, even in the mess.”
After it was done, I thanked my husband for waiting nearly an hour for me, and I apologized sincerely. I didn’t realize until later just how patient and supportive he was through it all. Sometimes we forget to say thank you for the small sacrifices, especially when we’re so busy surviving the chaos.
So what’s the takeaway from all this DMV drama?
Sorrow for sin isn’t just for the “big” moments in life. It shows up in the quiet acknowledgments, the whispered “I messed up,” the deep breath when we own our part and choose to learn from it.
For me, yesterday’s lesson was about:
Mercy — receiving it from strangers and my husband,
Stillness — choosing peace instead of panic,
Awareness — slowing down to live more intentionally.
Motherhood is full of moments like these—seemingly small, wildly chaotic, but rich in soul-stretching growth.
And honestly… I think God was probably smiling the whole time, watching me run around like a headless chicken, knowing this would all become another beautiful part of the story.
Because that’s the journey, isn’t it?
A little bit of chaos, a whole lot of grace—and always, always love.
Have you had a moment lately where you rushed, assumed, or missed something—and found yourself humbled by grace? I’d love to hear your story.
Comment below or message me—let’s normalize these messy mom moments and celebrate the mercy that finds us in them.
Or tag a mama friend who’s in the thick of it right now. Remind her: it’s okay to make mistakes. Grace is still waiting at the booth.
#CoolTravelMom #FaithInTheChaos #MomLifeWithGrace #SorrowToStillness #RealIDRealLessons #Kangenlife #KangenWater #MomMoment
© 2025 Cool Travel Mom. All rights reserved.