Narrow escapes, ever
had one? On October 17, a pleasant Monday, Dave and I traveled toward New
Mexico in the Peterbilt tractor, pulling a load of pipe. The fresh plowed fields
near I-20 in West Texas and blustery wind had already gritted the air, but that
dust was minimum, compared to what we experienced after dark.
A cold front had moved into North Texas, a 75 mph dust
storm, called a “haboob,” tossing tons of dirt into the air. “Haboob” is an
Arabic word for a massive sand storm, usually occurring only in North African
deserts. The storm hit Lubbock during daylight hours, however, by the time it
reached our location on I-20, between Abilene and Big Springs, it was after nine
o’clock and very dark.
Dave said, “It looks like black smoke ahead,” just as a
Cadillac in front of us braked suddenly. Dave pulled into the fast lane to
avoid hitting them, and that’s when we ran into the wall of black swirling
dirt. It obliterated the road. We could barely see a faint glow of the
headlights, but no visible road. The high winds sandblasted the truck, and all
Dave could do was steer, step on brakes, and start gearing down.
Then we felt the truck leave the interstate, our
direction unknown. We sensed going down an embankment and up again and crossing
different levels of ground. We felt as if we hit 50 things before our
80,000-pound rig and load finally stopped. I was on the phone with our
daughter, Sheryle, during our entire wild ride.
Right before all this happened I told her, “We’re hitting
some fierce wind.” She went on the scary ride with us via her cell phone. I'm
sure it was very frightening for her as I said, "Oh God, we've left the
road. We're having a wreck."
"Mom, what's happening? Are you okay?"
"I don't know. We’re still having the wreck...Okay
we’ve stopped. We’re okay. I’ll call you back.” I asked Dave, "Where are
we?” "I don't know. I think we
hit a bridge."
He grabbed a flashlight and jumped out to check the truck,
having no idea where we were. He later told me he thought we were in the
median, partially in oncoming traffic. We actually had missed any surrounding
vehicles, crossed in front of the Cadillac and traveled down and off the
roadway. We then went up another embankment, crossed the feeder road and ended
up in the ditch next to a plowed field. I couldn't even open the door of the
truck the wind was pushing so hard. Dirt blew perpendicular to the ground.
The husband and wife in the Cadillac stopped high above
us on the shoulder of the interstate, and the wife braved stinging dirt to
check on us. Dave still couldn’t tell where we were, but she told us we were to
the right of the feeder going west. By then Dave had inspected his load. No
pipe had shifted. We had not blown any tires. Not one scratch on the truck or
us, and we were especially relieved that the folk in the Cadillac were okay.
We counted our blessings, and Dave eased the truck back
onto the feeder where we drove several miles until the initial brunt of the
swirling darkness died down. Sheryle later texted: “The minute you said you
were getting into high wind, I said a quick prayer, “Lord, protect them.”
Emily, a young mother, related her harrowing close call
to me: Her husband and children were meeting family at their farm.
Five-month-old daughter, Kaitlyn, had a cough, so Emily took a hot bath, and
sat Kaitlyn in her car seat beside the tub, hoping the steam would ease her
breathing.
Emily heard a loud bang and saw pieces of the wall in her
bath water. After looking around, the family found a small hole in the wall
behind Emily’s back and a hole in an opposite cabinet -- lodged inside a
bullet, possibly from illegal hog hunters in the area. The bullet holes were
just inches from where little Kaitlin sat and where Emily had bathed. Emily
said, “I am so thankful that Kaitlyn and I weren't
hurt. God was watching over us.” When rescues happen, we take comfort in
knowing God has his eyes on sparrows, paths of big trucks, windstorms, paths of
bullets, and us.
Close calls can leave one trembling.
God’s miraculous sparings, through his power and his angels, remind us of at
least two things: First, God keeps track of where we are and what’s happening
in our lives. Second, if we’re still on Earth, he designated that we have more
days. Have you had any narrow escapes this year or in the past?
On this Thanksgiving in the year of our Lord
2011, knowing that God will protect us until it’s time for him to welcome us
home – now that’s delicious food for thought!
Index card verse for week 47: “Are
not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit
salvation?” (Hebrews 1:14).
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