Here is a real life experience of how God works mysteriously in our lives. It is offered to encourage anyone who may be having doubts that God always hears us, loves us, and provides what is best for us. This author, who wishes to remain anonymous, is a cradle Catholic born before Vatican II who has been wonderfully blessed by God with many talents, a loving family, a fifty-plus year marriage, and a successful business career before retiring. He writes under the pen-name initials of JCM – the meaning of which is another story. JCM has written numerous articles for national and international technical journals and industrial publications, he reviews proposed articles for these journals, and has taught technical courses in academia and industry. He and his wife wrote a weekly “Did You Know” column for their church’s parish bulletin for over three years.
You May Need God’ Help to Find the Way When the GPS Directional Street Signs Are Missing!
by Anonymous
Saturday morning dawned clear and bright for our grand-daughters confirmation. Her family attends a mission parish, St. Clair of Assisi in Altoona, GA, which only has the gym at a local public high school to use for celebrating mass each weekend. For this occasion, her class was joining with a class from nearby St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church in Cartersville where Bishop Sarema would confirm the candidates and say mass.
Two days before the trip, I printed the GPS directions on how to get from our house to the church. They looked pretty simple. Go north on I-75, get off at exit 283, go west to Emerson GA, and then follow the directions for a few turns for the last couple of miles to arrive at the church.
I was feeling pretty smug as I breezed along with the rest of the traffic making good time as we all made sure not to go slower than the posted interstate speed (I-75). We peeled off onto the exit ramp and when we reached the end of it, the realization struck that we were no longer in the fast moving modern world. We were now in the country. There was no traffic light at the end of the ramp. This did not seem like it would be a problem because we would just continue the rest of the five mile trip at a very leisurely pace as my wife lovingly cautioned me that the posted speed limit was now 35 mph. We also should not have a problem in getting to the church well before the 11 am start time since we had flown the first eighty percent of the trip.
Per the GPS directions, we drove the prescribed 0.8 miles and quickly passed through the posted portion of the town of Emerson, which has no traffic light and only a couple of small dilapidated stores with a few old pickup trucks out front. We continued per the directions looking for a sign for “Old Alabama Road”, where we would turn left. We quickly passed a narrow “Michigan Road”, that was headed south instead of north if it were really going to Michigan, followed by an access road to return to I-75, and then several unlabeled dirt roads at approximately mile intervals. Now I was starting to feel somewhat concerned about being lost and not making it to the confirmation in time as the farm acreage and timberland passed by with nary a person or building in sight for asking directions.
At about that moment the Holy Spirit intervened in my thoughts. He reminded me that I have not been too proud in the past to ask for directions and that now would be a good time to go back to Emerson to ask for help so that we would not miss the start of His confirming visit into my grand-daughters life. My dear wife, who had been scanning the roadsides for signs without comment and usually knows what I am thinking, must have overheard the Holy Spirit because when He finished His silent advice she piped up with an observation that there is a road going off to the left up ahead where we can turn around. So, in view of those two strong nudges, I turned around and headed back to Emerson.
We knew from our prior pass through that there was no gas station here so I decided to just stop at the first store we came to. Easing into the dirt and graveled pothole lot next to the first store we came to in Emerson, I spied a newly arrived local group of leather-clothed and booted Bikers with scruffy beards, except for one woman who was riding with them. They were just dismounting from their shiny chrome Harleys at the local watering hole as they took a break from their traditional Saturday morning ride. I headed for them for help. This was not the first time in my life that I have “Rushed in Where Angels Fear to Tread” but that is because I know that where there are angels God is nearby and they will be praising him and not walking, and He will protect me.
Being the ever gallant cowardly type, I drove up so that they were on my wife’s side of the car, because she is the sweet type that everyone wants to help. The shocked look on the Bikers faces was priceless as the wife of this couple in their seventies in a red sport car rolled down her window and asked in her soft southern drawl: “Hi folks, can yo’all help us get to St. Francis Catholic Church in Cartersville?” The closest biker, whose only physical resemblance to Jesus was that he was about the same height and had a beard, quickly responded very kindly. When Jesus was on earth He would have been in continuous communications with His Father about such a problem. This biker used a modern-day communication method. He borrowed the lady biker’s GPS-equipped smart phone to get us on our way. We thanked them profusely after we learned how to take the ramp back to I-75 and then veer off to reach “Old Alabama Road”. We arrived thankfully and safely at the church more than 15 minutes early.
If this were a fairy tale, it would have ended with the bikers escorting us to the church and then joining us for the ceremony. But, the real life ending was perhaps even better. We thanked them profusely for their help and they smiled as they waved good bye to us as we left with the look of being so pleased that they who some may consider to be outcasts were accepted and helpful.
Today, we so often fixate on trying to recognize Christ in the least of our brothers and sisters before we try to help them, that we miss a lot of opportunities. Similarly, we often spend so much time in making judgments that we fail to recognize Christ’s presence in others who want to help us. Fortunately on this trip, the Holy Spirit knew that we needed help and opened our eyes and hearts to the available help so that we would not be late for His Confirmation of our granddaughter. What a wonderful experience that two diverse groups could recognize Christ’s presence in each other and respond joyfully.