… I looked down at the gauge to see the needle pointing directly at “E”. I knew I had needed to fill up before leaving the dorm, but in the nievity of my eighteen years I had packed up the car and headed toward home without a thought for the fuel it would take to get there. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts of travel time and my afternoon workshift. I was wishing I had not cut my time so close. It was my first solo trip to visit a dear high school friend at her new college home and I tried to squeeze every minute from my weekend getaway. I slipped out silently in the early hours of Monday morning, hoping not to rouse my friend or her roommates. They were probably just waking up as my car began losing momentum, two hours along the desolate drive. I scanned the side of the empty country road ahead. Seeing a small turnout in the distance I coasted into it with the last of my fumes. Now what? I sent a silent plea up to my seemingly distant God, hoping He would help me. I was still wrestling with the seeds of faith that had been planted in my youth. I knew that He was real and that He hears us when we call, but I had yet to realize the joy of walking side by side in the presence of His great love.
But despite my own hesitation, He did not hesitate to reach out to me, for an all-knowing God recognizes his children long before we recognize Him. He walks beside us even before we know his presence. He will not neglect to lead us even if we choose not to follow.
He lead me that day down a small dirt road where a glimmer of red shone in the distance. He lead me down a dusty trail where the sound of voices were heard; two men with their fishing poles in hand, chatting next to a stream in a language unfamiliar. Although they did not seem to understand my words, they understood my need for help. One man left his pole with his friend and in a matter of minutes, his red truck was parked next to my car, a syphoning hose conveniently brought out of the back, and gas was syphoned from his tank into mine. Overwhelmed with gratitude, I searched my purse for something to show my appreciation. I offered him the only ten dollars I could find, but he would not accept it. He simply placed his hands upon his heart, a gesture to imply that it was the desire of His heart to help me in my time of need. I thanked him as I climbed into the car and started the engine. I leaned out the window to thank him again as I started to drive off. Recognizing the potential dangers that did not occur, through tears I sent a silent thank you to my God, who seemed a little closer now, and in the distance I heard a reply. In the only recognizable words spoken by the kind man who helped me, he called out, “God bless!”