This past Sunday I
was driving to my sister's baby shower early in the morning. I talked my younger sister into
leaving early in the morning so that we would be there in plenty of time. Not long into the trip I remembered my gas tank wasn't full. I began trying to scout out an exit
that would have a Starbucks, but no luck.
Finally the warning light came on, so
I gave up on coffee and pulled
over at the next available exit. I had two options of gas stations, one
to the right and one to the left.
Despite the fact that it appeared closed, I chose left. (Bear with me in the minor details. It makes the end all the more
meaningful!)
As I stood there
waiting for my tank to fill two bikers showed up, complete with scull kerchiefs
across the lower half of their faces.
Being a young woman with only my sleeping sister in the car to defend me, I
tried to be observant without being too obvious.
One young man went to the pump next to me and the other to the pump across from
my car. The first seemed to struggle as he
attempted to fill his bike with gas.
His friend came across to try to assist, but was unsuccessful.
Just as I was
wondering if I should offer to help, he looked my direction. Seeing me he shrugged his shoulders
and said,
"We're from
Brazil!"
to which his somewhat
broken, accented English testified. He went on to explain that in Brazil
they have attendants to do this
for them, so they were unsure of how to work the pump. They wanted to pay with cash, but as
the station was closed I suggested trying the one across the street. I couldn't help but repeat,
"You're from Brazil?!" going
on to tell them I would be traveling there
in about 1 month. After a few pleasantries in which I
was told I will enjoy their beautiful country, I got back in my car and drove
away.
Half laughing, half
crying, I was stunned.
Did the Lord really just do that for me?
I could hear him whisper to my heart
"I know exactly
where you are and I know exactly how to get you where I want you at exactly the
right time."
In this season of
risk, wrestling in the tension between wisdom and faith, blindly going forward
and "burning bridges" behind me, he sees. He knows where I am and where I am
going. He knows how to arrange and
sovereignly control circumstances so that I would be at the same mid-west gas
station as 2 Brazilian biker boys for the same 10 minutes on a Sunday morning. And while I sometimes wish he would
give me a few more details in the plan, for now I am at peace. He is so much more in control than I often give him credit for. He is my keeper (Psalm 121).
And that is enough.