Setbacks? Or Stories?
Jade & Meg, Who Saved Our Souls, on the South Island, New Zealand
Hey there,
When was the last time you found yourself in a situation and sarcastically muttered,
“Great.”
That was me last week.
Jared and I were rushing an hour down a gravel road toward the nearest market before it closed.
We’d run out of drinking water, the sun was setting behind the Southern Alps, and we had no backup plan.
Then his van wouldn’t start.
We were about 30 minutes down a gravel road we’d only seen two cars on all day.
At first, I was frustrated.
“Of course this is happening now,” I thought.
But then I remembered something I always seem to forget until I’m in the thick of it:
a good story always starts with a setback.
Jared starts making calls — first to New Zealand’s roadside assistance, who referred him to a “24/7” local contractor… who had a full voicemail inbox.
Then he called the fire department. Nothing.
And just when things felt properly stuck — we hear the distant rumble of diesel and mud tires.
Jared flagged down a shiny new Land Cruiser. ABS squealed, tires skidded — and that’s how we met Hamish.
Hamish ran the station 15 miles further down that same road. Said he didn’t think he had jumper cables, but he still got out and checked his rig anyway, despite being on his way to the butcher in town.
He came up empty.
Jared told him we’d even tried calling the fire department.
Hamish just shook his head and said,
“Ahh, I don’t think they wanna hear ‘bout ya.”
Hamish was the real deal. A no-BS kind of guy. The kind who holds eye contact just a little longer than you’re ready for. Said little, but every word — like his handshake — was firm and clear. I could tell he had bigger things on his mind, but still, he took the time to help.
Maybe sensing how stuck we really were, he called his shepherds back at the station.
Thirty seconds later: “They’re on their way. Might be 30 minutes.”
We said we’d wait, of course. Shook his hand again, and he rolled on.
Meanwhile, I shot a text to Josh — a guy who picked me up hitchhiking months ago. He told me to reach out if I ever needed anything.
Just as Hamish drove away, Josh replied:
“Yup. Just give me ten.”
Another Kiwi already on the move to help.
But before Josh could arrange a friend to help — like something out of a modern parable — two shepherds, Jade and Meg, rolled up in a white flatbed Land Cruiser.
Jared flagged them down, offered to show them where we were.
“Nah,” they said.
“Hop in the back.”
Wind in our faces, bumping down the gravel, laughing like idiots on the bed of a truck.
They jump the van, we’re back in motion, and then find out Meg’s a photographer. She and Jared connect on Instagram — turns out, she's got quite a knack as well.
They mention they’d love to have us out at the station, if Hamish gives the green light.
Before long, the van got jumped, Meg turns out to be a photographer herself, they connect on Instagram, and mention how they’d love to have us out at the station, should Hamish approve.
None of this had been anticipated, yet it had all unfolded better than we could ever have planned.
The thing is, this isn’t a one off experience.
Every time I’ve been stuck — on the road, at a job, in life — God has always provided.
Not always how I expected.
Not always how I wanted.
But always in a way that moved me forward.
That’s why I don’t carry worry like I used to.
Because I’ve seen what happens when I just let go — and trust that things will work out.
Sometimes help comes from a friend.
Sometimes a stranger.
And the other day, it came riding in a flatbed Land Cruiser with two shepherds and a shared love of cameras despite differing brand preferences.
So remember:
Setbacks are just story material.
And the story always finds a way forward.
And yes — we made it to the store with 10 minutes to spare.
When Jared hopped out, he left the van running. I told him I’d wait to keep an eye on it.
He smirked.
“Nah, it’s fine.
It’d just be another story.”