Tuesday, July 27, 2010
We were returning from five-day trip to Spokane. We had an eight hour drive ahead of us. But near Noon, we noticed the heat of the engine was rapidly rising to the critical line. We were able to add coolant before any damage was done--we were SO close to blowing the engine--we could hear the radiator bubbling and blowing.
A couple hours later, after lunch with friends, we were on the road again--but somehow we missed our cutoff and we were lost. As we were finding our way, a woman in the lane next to us pulling a trailer of her own, nearly took us off the road. She was holding her cell phone to her ear--she didn't seem to notice how close she'd come to becoming another statistic.
We arrived home safely. Ah, it was so good to be home!
This morning I called Sissy to see how she was doing. I was astonished when she asked if something had happened around Noon and then again around 2 p.m.? I was speechless. She'd had a heavy heart and a need to pray for us right when we were in danger. So amazing--a beloved Sister's prayers--the powerful intervention of angelic forces.
I caught one of those angels in the skies--can you see her? She followed us all the way to Oregon. All the while she flew alongside, I was reminded we were traveling safely in God's hands. Little did I know Sissy's prayers were winging their way to heaven. Her heart was with us as we drove that long road home.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
This Angel Story was sent by my delightful Sister Clytie. Here is the story in her own words.
When I was first married, I drove a 1972 Datsun 2000 Roadster hard-top convertible. I rarely drove with the top down, because it entailed a great deal of work to get it off and stored. One of the hinges actually had to be removed with a crowbar, although the other side was so loose, it would sometimes fall down at odd times, with a loud "BAM!"
I frequently drove to Pendleton, Oregon, to visit my husband's grandparents - a four hour trip. On one occasion I was traveling by myself through the Columbia Gorge, my little car fully loaded for the weekend trip. I was tired, and the trip was long and boring, with no stereo or radio to divert my attention...
Suddenly, a loud "BAM!"
I woke up, realizing I had drifted off to sleep and was swiftly heading toward a very steep embankment, a vertical rock wall in front of me! I was shocked awake and shakily headed my little car back to the highway. I took the next exit and sat for a while.
Only after I had calmed down did I think to fix the hinge that woke me up. But it was already hitched!!! Astonished I looked at the other hinge - the one I needed a crowbar to undo, and there it was, hanging down ... undone. I had to use all of my force to push it closed again!
How did this happen? I can only imagine an angel saw me falling asleep and flicked the hinge with an agitated finger to wake me up. I don't have any other explanation. In the entire time we owned the car the hinge on that side, only fell down that one time.
I, for one, am deeply grateful to God for His protection of my sister as she drove that lonely road. I think about what my life would be without Clytie in it, and I am bereft. There is something so wonderful and beautiful about the sweet relationship between sisters.
You can visit Clytie and her wonderful blog at Random Hearts!
You can visit Clytie and her wonderful blog at Random Hearts!
Friday, July 9, 2010
True life can sometimes be stranger than fiction. In the late 1990's we lived in Oregon, near Highway 99, which runs through Newberg and McMinnville. I loved to go to McMinnville to a restaurant which made their own luscious donuts.
One morning, I went to pick up a raft of those fragrant beauties to serve a work party we were having at our home later that morning. Odd thing--I even remember what I was wearing--a jean dress with red roses hand-painted on the scoop-necked bodice.
I was in line with a group of customers waiting to be served. I laughed and joked with some of them--they loved the donuts, too. A man came in to stand at the end of the line. He was slightly built, wore jeans, a plaid shirt and a light colored windbreaker.
I made my purchase, walked out to the van, got inside--turned to settle the bag of donuts on the seat beside me, glanced out the driver's side window and screamed. The man stood with his face so close to the van window, I could see the pupils contracting in his icy blue eyes. He must have followed behind me within inches, as I left with my purchases.
I was going to open the door, but instead my fingers hit the door locks. I was shocked because that wasn't what I'd intended to do. At first I flushed with embarrassment. But then I realized I was shaking.
Taking a deep breath. I rolled the window down a fraction and said, "I'm sorry, you startled me. Can I help you?"
Without any expression he said, "You are a very attractive woman." His voice had a curious monotone--no inflection to his tone, no warmth in his face.
In fact, the man's eyes were glacial. I replied shakily, "My husband would thank you." He said something else I can't remember and I told him I had to leave. My hands shook so I could hardly put the key into the ignition.
He stood watching me, as I backed the van away from the curb. I was shivering. His eyes had been devoid of any feeling--they were empty, dead--like looking into the eyes of a shark. I felt like I'd made contact with some kind of monstrous darkness. I knew a supernatural presence had kept me from opening that van door and I never forgot that strange encounter.
A few years ago, I picked up one of those true crime books at our local used bookstore. It was the story of the Green River Killer--a hideous monster of a man who had preyed upon women for years, murdering them in cold blood. He had finally been caught.
I turned to the pictures in the middle of the book and screamed. It was him. It was that man who had frightened me so badly at the donut shop. He wore the same plaid shirt, the same thin windbreaker. His eyes were the same. In her book, the author wrote that around the time of my encounter, the man and his unsuspecting wife often traveled I-5 and Highway 99 to various swap meets.
I firmly believe an angel guided my fingers to lock the doors of the van that day. How I thank God for His protection. I shudder to think what could have happened without His supernatural intervention.
Angels--our God-given protectors. I wonder how many times we walk through our lives, unaware of their protection and guidance?