Yes, these are true ...
Tuesday, Aug. 5, 2003 1115 p.m.
No, it hasn’t been found.
Five blessings out of this:
I was at work, so our other car wasn’t parked behind hers. (we park on the public street, one car behind the other).
I hadn’t made the payment for September. I usually pay one month in advance.
Our other car, a 1996 Ford Aspire is paid for. If it'd been hit/totaled, I'd be making payments for two cars!
The Civic was fully covered, so the insurance will cover the repair, or determine if it’ll be totaled. Allstate is paying for the rental,
Thursday Aug. 7 4:15
While waiting for the police, I asked Sandra to wake me, this is nightmare, it can’t be happening.
I called Enterprise and asked them if they had ‘anti-carjack’ service on their rentals.
“No, why?” I told her, she took a report. “Do you have the key?”
Even after having a car stolen, they’ll let us have another. What an example of God’s GRACE, MERCY and FORGIVENESS.
I called the wrecker service that has a contract with the city, thinking maybe they towed it.
“What’s the license numbers?” the dispatcher asked. She checked, “No, we didn’t pick it up, sorry.”
Sandra said, “A co-worker gave me this,” as she handed me a Bible tract.
Thank YOU, Lord!
The policeman got out of his car. We explained what happened, beginning Tuesday night.
Are we immune from troubles? No.
Why do we go thru these things?
“Though He slay me, yet I will trust Him.” Job
Sandra had arrived home from her job. I was having to work late because a problem with a sludge pump. I called her to let her know I’d be working overtime. Sandra answered and said “I just heard a car wreck out in front of the house!” She checked.
Our Honda Civic had been hit, the impact pushed it two house lenghts over. The other vehicle left.
I told her to call the police.
When I got home the police were still there making out the report. Two witnesses saw the white pickup truck hit ours.
Sandra had already gotten out of the car and was safe in the house.
(Prayers of thanksgiving, Praise for God’s care, intercession for the drunk driver.)
a 2003 Honda Accord. We picked it up Wednesday so we’re back to having two cars.
Sandra woke to let the dogs out, looked across the street at the parking lot where we parked our Aspire and the rental (Honda Accord).
What’s wrong with this picture? I don’t see either car. OH GOD!
“Al, wake up, you’ve got to come see this!”
“Huh? What?” I climbed out of bed and followed her. She pointed.
“NOOOOOOOO! NOT BOTH! THE ACCORD I CAN UNDERSTAND, BUT THE ASPIRE?”
A prayer before the tears.
“Yes.”
“Good,” she said, “at least it wasn’t negligence on your part. I’ll send this to the office you rented from, you’ll have another car in the morning.”
Not as much as me!
I read it, How God Makes a Diamond:
“A diamond is made from coal, by intense pressure, then can it shine and have its brilliance, reflecting the light.”
He walked across the street, got the phone number off a sign to a wrecker service that contracts with the business. He called. “They have it,” he said.
“THANK GOD!” Literally!
I finished reading Gracie Burham’s book, In the Presence of Mine Enemies
Those of you that don’t know the story, her and her husband Martin, were missionaries in the Philippines.
They were captured by the Abu Sayet, a Muslim terrorists group, and held for a year.
All the time, they remembered God was with them, and He must have a reason for being with those people.
Martin was killed during a rescue attempt. Gracie lived.
The guy that hit our car. Yes, I want him caught before he hits or kills himself, or someone else.
Does he remember, or care if he hit someone or somebody when he sees the damage on his truck?
I don’t know, I hope and pray so.
Is God using the accident to get his attention, for him to sober up before something worse happens? Maybe.
Everything, and everyone is in God’s time and purpose.
With the precision and determination of a NASCAR driver you maneuver around the traffic. You wish you had red lights and a siren.
Finding a parking space doesn’t take long, how many visitors are at the hospital at 10:20 at night.
The elevator doors open as soon as you push the UP button.
The trip to the third floor is quiet, solemn. The phone call replays, “It doesn’t look good.”
The doors open. You exit, turn the corner. Face the corridor. It seems like miles to room 3220. No matter how fast you walk it’s not fast enough, it’s like time has stopped. You notice your heart beating inside your head. The only semblance of time is hearing your shoe heels hitting the tile floor. The hallway clock shows 10:21.
The nurses station comes up on the right. All three look up and recognize you from your being there earlier. Their eyes drop back to the computer monitor, the clipboard, one turns his back to look away.
How many times have they had to call family members tonight? Have they are already decided who’ll be the one to break the bad news, “I’m sorry, we did everything we could…”
You don’t have to look at the room numbers to know where to go. No, not after a week, it’s all by instinct. Tonight, by adrenalin.
Entering the room, the curtain is partly pulled closed. It is now that time has stopped. Nothing in the world is happening. Nothing else matters.
You can see the outline of feet under the thin blanket. As you walk around the partition your eyes scan to where the knees are, the waist. It takes too long to look at the chest to see it it’s moving up and down for breath. No, you can’t move your eyes any faster to look at her face. Her eyes.
“Where ya been?” she asks.
Were was I? At that instant ... that frozen moment in time? Recalling the walk taken by Mary and Peter to the tomb on the third day after Christ’s crucifixion. They knew he was dead. They’d seen him die a horrible, agonizing death. They’d wept for him. For themselves. He was gone. Forever.
Or so they thought.
That’s were I was now. I couldn’t love her more, nor could he.