I ALMOST Made It To Clitheroe Without a Mishap

Oh, I was so close. About five miles away. I had found my way from Manchester Airport, on up to Preston, turning east on A56 toward Clitheroe. I was starting--I thought-- to get the feel of this crazy left-side driving.

But not quite used to it. Judging incorrectly my left side margins, I hit some protruding curb, or something, and demolished the left front tire of my rental SAAB.

I pulled off to the side, which itself was an awkward maneuver, and set out to change the tire, as I would my own car, but in the attempt to loosen the bolts of the front tire, I couldn't locate the strange fitting that was needed to lock onto the odd Saabian tire bolts. I was stuck. No cell phone. No idea where I was.

Where can I go from Your Spirit? Even the darkness is not dark to you.....

Then Lumb, and her little black dog Scoobie, walked by. I asked if she lived nearby, and she said she did. I explained my predicament to her, and asked if I might accompany her to her house and call the rental car company. In God's providential care, she had mercy on me and invited me along.

I called for help, and help came and changed the tire. As I was leaving Lumb's house, I asked her if I could pray for her--a pray for blessing, and of healing for her ailing heart. She courteously declined, letting me know she was an atheist, and if she worshipped anything, she worshipped nature, as expressed so prettily there in her quaint backyard garden.

I can't help but think God purposefully arranged our encounter today. In doing so, he turned an atheist into a veritable angel of mercy for a moment, and perhaps, in some small way, I might have been a sign to her--a faint glimmering sign-- that God just might be real after all...

Pray for her, will you? Lumb, a widow living by herself, and little Scoobie, there on Ribchester Road in Lancashire, England.