Friday, May 27, 2011

Ting-Bumper Angel


25 years ago, Mums and I, along with my tiny baby daughter, were traveling up I-5 through Washington State, on our way to speak at a Ladies' Retreat. 

Suddenly, a small blue car sped out of nowhere to play near ting bumper with the back of my Volkswagen Bug.  Having no ax to grind, I obligingly moved over.  As we watched the teenage boy aggressively spin through the traffic ahead I observed, "That kid is going to get someone killed."  I could see other drivers around us felt the same.  Vehicles in the lanes around the teen would not let him through. I shook my head.

Just then my little daughter began to scream.  Mom tried to comfort her, but to no avail.  Nothing helped!  So we took the next exit.  I thought maybe she was hungry and needed to nurse.  However, as soon as we parked the VW, she stopped crying and gave us a BIG toothless smile.  She didn't want to nurse and was as happy as a clam, waving her plump little arms and giggling into the air.  Mumsie and I were both mystified.

But when we drove back to the freeway, traffic was at a standstill.  "There must have been an accident," I said.  As we drew closer, I felt a little ill--there, mashed against the median was that small blue car.  Rescue vehicles were just arriving on the scene.  Drapes covered the driver's side door.  

Cars we'd traveled next to for miles were crunched and broken, scattered along both sides of the freeway.  If we hadn't pulled over when we did, we would have been right in the middle of that terrible accident. 

Mum and I were shaken to the core.  Looking at the people, some of them standing beside their crushed vehicles, I realized the three of us had escaped a horrible fate.  It was a very close call.

Later we smiled over the thought of a big ole' angel swooping down into our tiny Volkswagen Bug.  Catching my wee baby's attention, the angel must have told her to cry like the dickens and to not let up until we'd pulled off the freeway.  As soon as we were out of danger, I'm sure my baby received a big warm angel hug.  Perhaps she was smiling and waving goodbye as the angel flew away.

Miraculously our lives were spared.   All three of us had a lot more left to do here on this earth!   I believe God often sends His angel messengers to protect those He loves.  I am so grateful for His protection on the highway.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Angel in the Parking Lot


We often traveled to California when we were first starting out.  In those days we didn't have a big trailer to haul all our drama equipment, props and sets--everything was stuffed  into the back of our old brown van.

Our Van broke down as we were returning from a two week tour performing in California.  We pulled into a big empty parking lot to assess what we should do.  It was late and obviously we couldn't drive any further.  My sweet husband rented a motel room a few blocks away, for our three small children and I, then left to see what could be done for our old Van.  He was able to get the part we needed just down the road. 

He was lying underneath our vehicle on a piece of discarded cardboard, working to cinch the new part down onto the engine.  He soon discovered he needed someone to hold the piece he was working on, from above.   He was about to give up in frustration, when he sent up a prayer.

A few minutes later, as my husband grimly wrestled with the impossible task, he heard a voice.  "Looks like you need some help there, young fella."

Alan said he thought at first it was an old farmer.  My husband could see the man's friendly smile--tooth-white in his crinkled, seamed face--from where he lay on the parking lot.  Then a weathered, sun-warmed hand reached down, to hold the part in place.

A moment later the job was done.  My husband quickly climbed out from under the van, to thank the elderly man who had helped him.

But strangely enough--in the middle of that huge parking lot--the helpful old man was nowhere to be found. 

An angel?  I have no doubt in my mind.  Angels seem to show up exactly the moment one needs help.  They seem quite ordinary, until they vanish without a trace.