Road Miracles

I believe it takes a lot for us to be continually  safe hurtling down the road in a tin can.

I have a few examples in my own life where obviously God was hard at work to save me from an untimely death.

Miracle # 1: I was about nineteen or twenty and was taking Mother and Brothers (who were about eight or nine) to Gainesville. I was driving a Blazer, the kind that got about twelve miles to the gallon. It was pouring rain and I was going about sixty miles an hour. One of the tires blew out. And I mean exploded. The car was instantly out of control, but I finally managed to get it stopped on the side of the road. (My arms were so sore for days I could barely lift them.) I don't believe I could have done this with my own strength.

Miracle # 2: Mother turned to me and said, "I will never tell you how to drive again."

Miracle # 3: She never has.

Miracle # 4: I was getting ready to get out of the car and look helpless, when a truck passed us, made a U-turn and pulled in behind me. He was coming from Gainesville, headed toward home. I knew him, he knew me. And he had gone to Gainesville to pick up a load of tires. He changed my tire, waved as he drove off, hollering, "Pay me when you can."

Miracle # 5: I was twenty-one when Yankee Cousin and I were in Smyrna, going to look at the cute little hell hole Husband Who is Now Ex for all Eternity had purchased without my seeing it or approving the buy. I was upset over this, plus the thousands of roaches that came with the house. Anyway, that's not the miracle. (or maybe it is, I let him live). It was once again pouring the rain. I came to a dead end and turned left, and when I did the car started hydroplaning, and we went straight into a ditch.  I didn't even have time to blink when a car pulled in behind us, all four doors opened where upon four big hunky guys got out, lifted the car out of the ditch, saluted, got back in their car and drove off.

Miracle # 6: I was twenty-nine or thirty and was coming home from work in Ball Ground. This was when one had to go up Hwy. 5 and make a left turn to get onto the brand spanking new 515. There was a good bit of traffic. I came to the turn lane, put on my blinker, entered the turn lane and moved forward. A transfer truck suddenly decided to do the same thing, right in front of me. I had a choice: Either go up under the truck or slam on my brakes. Praying I would hit nobody when I braked (I was going about 45 mph), I tried to keep control of the car, which was impossible. When I finally stopped I was sideways in the middle of the road. Everyone had seen it coming and backed off.

Miracle # 7: When I looked up, I was staring at the big blue eyes of an ambulance driver. He arched his eyebrows as if to say, "Do you need us?" I shook my head no. I wasn't hurt.

Miracle # 8: The transfer truck, who was going to go merrily on his way was stopped by a state patrolmen who saw the whole thing. He pulled us both other, and when he got through talking to that big old macho driver, said driver was blubbering like a baby. I had the power to press charges and he knew his brand new license would be pulled. (I didn't do this since I wasn't hurt). The patrolman petted me like I was his own child and gave me his name and said if I changed my mind, to call the office and he'd gladly proceed with charges.

I wonder how many countless times I don't know about that my life has been spared, simply because it ain't my time to go.