The Trip - Part 2

(This is a continuation of yesterday’s post from 12/15/09)

As Curt (my husband) coasted into the shadow of the industrial power plant on the remaining fumes in his gas tank, he noticed a small country store, a diesel engine repair shop, a small bar, and 17 mobile homes trying to pass muster as a town. It was only 8:30 PM on this dark December night, but the entire metropolitan population of 23 had apparently gone to bed already. The only sign of life was the bar.

The bartender informed my husband that he was 32 miles from the nearest gas station and that the country store sold emergency gasoline but wouldn’t open until 8:00 AM the next morning. Curt called to inform me about his overnight delay and remind me about the winter coat, the blanket, the extra sandwich from the lunch I had packed so that I wouldn’t worry.

While Curt seemed excited about this unexpected “camping” adventure, I was terrified. It was 20 degrees and he was sleeping in his car! He was picturing himself a victor in the epic struggle of man against nature. In my mind, I could hear banjo music playing the theme from “Deliverance” while I envisioned his roadside murderer cutting his body into 1,000’s of frozen little pieces that were then fed to wild beasts while his car was stripped to the frame and sold for parts by toothless rednecks.

He said, “Good night” and climbed into his makeshift bed in the back seat of his SUV while I called friends and family and rallied them to pray for his safety. He would have slept like a baby all night and I wouldn’t have slept a wink.

About 10:15 PM, my husband decided to stretch his legs. At exactly the same moment (what a coincidence), one of the bays at the truck repair shop across the highway opened and an 18-wheeler pulled into the building. Intrigued by signs of life, my husband walked over to the shop and met two older men who were working the second shift.

Since it was a diesel engine shop, there was no gas in sight. But these two men calculated how much gas he would need, emptied two one-gallon jugs of cleaning solution into the sink, and siphoned gas from their own cars into the jugs so my husband could make it to the next gas station. They would not accept any money and instead said, “Merry Christmas.”

Three hours later my husband arrived home safe and sound. His 12-15 hour trip had been extended to 19 hours and I was glad he was home.

Prayer changes things because God answers prayer. It is the stuff that miracles are made of. Would Curt have made it home safely without prayer? Probably, yes. But we prayed specifically and God answered our prayer - just to let us know he cares.


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