God provides extraordinary protection and provision for us even on the most ordinary of days. Most of the time, we just aren’t aware of it. We may never even see it.
And sometimes we do.
About fifteen years ago, after a camping trip out West – I mean so remotely WEST that the buffalo roam, and the deer and the antelope play – we were on our way back to Iowa where we were living at the time. Our old Suburban was packed to the brim with our four daughters and camping equipment. My husband and I team-tagged the driving – one of us would crawl in back and sleep while the other drove, and then trade off every two hours. In the middle of the night, in the vastness of Nebraska, it was my turn to drive. As Bill got in the back, he advised, “You are going to need to stop in Grand Island to get gas.” It was the next big town on the Interstate, which in Nebraska means, “Your only opportunity for gas for at least a hundred miles.” “No problem,” I replied, as the four girls and Bill settled down for a deep sleep.
I watched the billboards for truck stops which were the only gas stations that would be open now after midnight. But as I neared the exits for Grand Island, orange construction barrels created a confusing maze. One exit was completely closed, and the other was disguised by construction equipment and oddly arranged barrels. I drove past Grand Island before I knew it, but no problem, I had seen billboards for another exit just 30 miles away. I could hear snoring in the back.
The “low fuel” light had been on for some time. But confidently, I drove on. I pulled off an exit which advertised two gas stations. The ramp emerged into deep darkness. No sign of life. In the moonlight, I could see that one gas station looked like it had been out of business for years, with tree-like weeds growing through cracks in the pavement. The other, dark and closed, appeared not so far behind. Bill felt the slowing of the car, looked at the sub-EMPTY fuel indicator, and stated in a very quiet voice, “I have NEVER gone so low on fuel before.” “There is another exit in 15 miles,” I said. “We don’t have enough gas to go that far,” he stated. “Let’s see if we can find a station open in town.”
We drove into scenic Aurora, Nebraska, literally a ghost town, no lights in any house, no indication of any life, even the dogs were asleep. The town square looked eerily like a movie set for a Western. At this point, it was 2 a.m. We were driving on fumes with our prospects for gas as empty as our tank. We headed back to the Interstate, planning now to pull into the only available gas station and wait for them to open in the morning.
As we circled the desolate town hall, Bill spotted lights at an agricultural fuel co-op. Bill swiped his credit card, but not being co-op members, we had no way to get gas. Suddenly, out of the murky dark streets, a jeep careened into the station, a young man jumped out and started pumping gas into his vehicle. Bill and I looked at each other in disbelief.
Bill asked the young man if he would swipe his co-op card so that we could get $20 of gas to get to the next truck-stop. Bill gave him a twenty. The young man swiped his card, and before Bill could even finish fueling, the jeep took off into the darkness.
“Was he REAL?” we both said at once. To this day, I firmly believe that was God’s supernatural provision at 2 a.m. in a tiny Western town, an angel driving a jeep – disguised in blue jeans and a t-shirt - his wings, I suppose, in the backseat with his hunting stuff.
God’s shield surrounds us. He reminded me in the silence of a Nebraska night. I live on His grace and His grace alone.
Your way was through the sea,
Your path through the great waters,
yet Your footprints were unseen.
Psalm 77.19
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