I don’t know why God likes to teach me things when I am in the car. I’ve written several blog posts of my adventures with Harvey my CR-V. I suppose it’s the one place in my world that lacks distraction, so I do tend to pray a lot in the car and I’ve had many two-sided conversations with my Creator while driving.

However, this particular instance wasn’t a conversation. I wasn’t looking for specific answers to my troubling questions. I was simply sitting in the dark in the middle of nowhere.

My oldest daughter and I were driving back from a college visit, just the two of us. She was quietly scrolling through her phone in the passenger seat and I was singing along to the radio.

Quick refresher course for those new here; I cannot successfully operate a GPS. It’s impossible. I know the concept. I say all the right things. I do all the right things. But, somehow I seem to end up heading in the wrong direction a lot. Because of this, I have a lot of anxiety in unfamiliar places.

So, I was already anxious. And did I mention it was dark? Like,  6pm-after-the-time-change dark.

One more fun fact you need to know; I love back roads. I love the dips and curves. I love the personality of the country and how each house seems to have a story to tell. Especially the abandoned ones.

Ok. So, here we were, my oblivious teen and I, on the back road of no where Alabama in the dark.

And suddenly there’s a red stoplight. No cross roads. No directional signs. No indication on my evil, conniving GPS of roadwork or delays. Just a random red light that doesn’t make any sense.

So I stop. And I wait.

I turn to my kid and ask her what the deal is as if she has suddenly gained all knowledge. She just shrugs and goes back to scrolling. No good kid!

I wait some more. I notice there are traffic barrels down the center of the road ahead, but beyond that is just darkness. My headlights don’t even illuminate the road because it rolls downhill. It starts to feel abysmal. The darkness seems to grow around me. The quiet of the country begins to stir up all kinds of fears I forgot I had.

A few cars pull up behind me. I was comforted by the light, but then started to worry aloud, “Abi, I don’t even know where to go when the light turns green! What side of the road am I supposed to go on? Those barrels aren’t lined up to guide very well. I hate that I am the first one in line! What if I go the wrong way? What if I lead these people down the wrong side of the road? What is even going on down there?”

More scrolling and shrugs. I wished for her calm.

I fought the urge to turn around. I fought the urge to panic. I wish I could say that I took the opportunity to pray and ask for help, but I didn’t. I just sat there in the dark fretting.

Suddenly, as if riding on a cloud, a pick up truck dressed in white, blue and red blinding lights rose up over the hill and slid into place in front of me. There were no gestures and no words to tell me what to do. It was obvious Jesus was driving the truck and wanted me to follow him. He turned the red light to green and began to drive down the hill. A beacon.

I started laughing and praising Jesus for saving me from the darkness. I couldn’t believe how relieved I was to have a rescuer appear from out of no where to lead me out of my fabricated mess. And I didn’t even ask for him!

My 17yo thought I was nuts, but I made her take a picture to remind me of all the lessons I learned while stranded on a country road.

1. God knows exactly what you need, even when you are fretting.
2. Life is more fun when you are not fretting.
3. He’s always with you and won’t leave you sitting in the darkness of a freshly harvested cotton field.
4. He knows the way to go, just focus on His light.
5. He’s valiant, responsive and has perfect timing every time.
6. He delights in surprising you.
7. He’s a rescuer.
8. He drives a pick-up truck.
9. Ok, He doesn’t really drive a pick-up truck but He could if He wanted to.
10. 17yo girls think their parents are strange when they suddenly start praising Jesus in a pick-up truck and ask them to take pictures of it.