When Miracles Bounce
For the Lord spake
thus to me
with a strong hand. .
. .
— Isaiah
8:11a
When I heard that a big plane fell 3,200 feet
into the Hudson River, but nobody died, I felt the brush of angels' wings.
Didn't you?
When I heard that the multi-million dollar,
twin-engine, US Air Flight 1549 was felled by one or more little geese sucked
into those mighty engines, I got a honkin' load of humility pondering who WE
are and what WE can make, vs. who God is and what HE can make.
When I heard how smart the pilot, Chesley
Sullenberg III, had been to choose the Hudson as a runway, instead of teeming
Manhattan . . . and then communicated the plan calmly and rationally to the 150
passengers . . . and then glided the silent, "dead in the air" plane down into
the river with pinpoint accuracy . . . and how it stayed upright long enough
for everybody to climb out onto the wings to safety with no fire or explosion .
. . right near a ferry crossing so there were lots of passenger boats there
instantly to collect them from the icy water. . .
. . . I just thought, "That was one of Your good
ones, God." Didn't you? This sketch says it all:
Can any of us deny that that was a modern-day
miracle? Without all those amazing coincidences and lucky breaks, we'd have had
a horrible tragedy with a staggering death toll. Instead, we're all smiling,
looking skyward, drawing a little closer to God, and whispering a little
"Thanks!"
It all happened so fast. But that's what
miracles do. They're when God speaks to us "with a strong hand" - when things
look bleak, but the resolution is so amazing, incredible, and most of all,
GOOD, that you just KNOW it was "a God thing."
Maybe you have to live through a miracle to fully
appreciate them. Mine was nowhere near as spectacular as the Miracle on the Hudson. But it was wacky and
unexpected, and pulled me closer to God. So I guess that qualifies:
See, I was driving to the next city over,
Lincoln, Neb., for probably the four squillionth time. So I knew the road. The
Interstate was dry that winter's day, and the skies were sunny. I was going to
see my good friend and Christian mentor, and had some tunes cranked up loud,
enjoying the solitude . . .
. . . when suddenly, from across the median in
the other Interstate lanes, I saw a giant triple truck lose a tire . . .
. . . and it bounced once, high, in the median .
. .
. . . and bounced high again, COMING RIGHT TOWARD
ME!!!
These are the times I wish I hadn't taken all
those bunny courses in school, scrupulously avoiding physics and upper-level
math. I am totally ignorant of facts that might have helped me in that
situation. You know: probability and statistics, trajectories, E=mc2
. . .
As my eyes bugged out of my head watching that
tire bounce toward me, my fuzzed-over brain rapidly puzzled out one major
question:
At that arc, that oncoming speed and that
distance away, would its next bounce come down right on top of . . .
. . . moi?
It was a Murphy's Law kind of situation. I had
only a split-second to react. Slack-jawed, I gaped with dread at the oncoming tire.
It was reaching the top of its latest bounce and about ready to come down on my
side of the Interstate.
Let's see . . . if I stomped on the accelerator,
I'd probably accelerate myself to the EXACT SPOT where that six-foot heavy tire
was going to bounce next.
If I threw on the brakes, though, no doubt I'd
do the same thing.
THAT'S WHAT THEY'D SAY AT MY FUNERAL: LOSER!!!
SHE CHOSE POORLY AND BROUGHT THIS ON HERSELF!!!!!
Frozen, helpless, I did what I do best:
Nothing!
I just kept driving and braced myself for FINAL
IMPACT. (Hmm. Wasn't there a movie named that?)
At least I didn't curse. I wish I could say in
my final moment that I prayed for world peace, a cure for cancer, and a
much-improved defensive secondary for the Huskers. But nooooo.
All I could eke out for my last breath on Earth
was:
"Oh!"
That's it?!?
That's your legacy?
That's what you want engraved on your tombstone?
"Oh!" ????????
That totally lame and worthless last
word is why the Lord spared me. He took pity.
As I watched, still slack-jawed and
white-knuckling the steering wheel, that truck tire bounced right in front of
my car, sailed over my car, and then bounced behind my car one more time.
My rear-view mirror disclosed that
it careened into the ditch by the side of the road, rolled a little while
further, then circled harmlessly and fell to the ground. PLOP!
As soon as I returned my gaze to the
road ahead, I saw a homely little hand-painted sign on a farm fencepost off to
the right. It said:
TRUST JESUS
You bet I can!
Tears filled my eyes, emotion choked my throat,
and I looked skyward once again, happy to see no oncoming truck tires, and
whispered, "Thank You!"
I didn't see a "strong hand" come down from the
sky and whisk that tire out of my way. But that doesn't mean it didn't happen.
You know, in our lives, there are going to be honking
geese and bouncing truck tires suddenly and inexplicably rumbling into our path,
threatening our very lives. But that's OK.
Because we've got a totally trustworthy
navigator on our side . . . whose middle name is "Miracle." †
