I was driving on highway 78 going to church with my wife Carol on a wet Wednesday evening through intermittent heavy squalls. The rain had just stopped, and I eased the car back up to freeway speed when suddenly the car seemed to raise up off the wet road. It began to spin, rotating out of control across three lanes of heavy traffic. My wife screamed “We’re going to crash!” as I silently sat frozen in utter fear. The car was out of control, spinning at will across the rain slick highway. Cars coming into view ever so briefly and disappearing only to return to view as the scenes repeatedly flashed before me. Finally, the car straightened out in a backward trajectory, the rear end of the car careened headlong over the low embankment that edged a 60-foot-deep chasm. As the car began to slide over the edge into the awaiting abyss the car came to an abrupt stop, teetering on the precipice. In total shock I said to Carol, “Don’t move, or we’re going over this cliff!” We sat for what seemed like forever, frozen in our seats, fearing the slightest movement that would send us over the edge and wondering – What now?
I was a minister and was scheduled to conduct the Wednesday evening service in our Vista church some 29 miles north of our home in San Diego. Prior to dinner, I told my wife that we’d better leave earlier than usual as the storm raging outside might get worse and I didn’t want to be late.
As we made our way up the freeway, the intensity of the rain and wind was vacillating wildly and at times overwhelming the windshield wipers forcing me to slow to 15 miles an hour. The terrible weather created heavier than normal traffic. The storm was causing the highway speed to vary as torrential waves of rain and wind assaulted the road. Cautiously we proceeded northward with little conversation as I concentrated on the ever-changing road conditions.
At about three miles from our destination, a torrential squall passed and I slowly increased speed. Without warning everything changed. The car hit a large accumulation of water on the road and the vehicle began to hydroplane spinning out of control across the three lanes of heavy traffic.
The car, now rocking ever so slightly on the precipice of the roadside berm threatened an impending disaster. We were in a very precarious situation. The slightest change in balance and we were going down the embankment. To make matters worse, we had no idea how deep the chasm was that yawned behind us.
Suddenly there was a knock on the passenger side window. I opened the window.
A man excitedly said, “I just witnessed three miracles! Are you okay?”
Still in shock I said, “Yes, we’re OK but we’re fearing going over the edge.”
“I’m a tow truck driver and I was driving behind you. It’s a miracle you didn’t get hit or hit someone else or go over the side. I’ll get a hook to stabilize your car. Don’t move! I’ve alerted the highway patrol.”
We gratefully sat quietly not so much as making a move. I wondered now; how did this man follow us across the heavy traffic to rescue us?
The driver quickly hooked up our car just as the highway patrol officer arrived. The officer assessed the situation and, convinced the car was stable, opened the passenger side door and pulled Carol out.
Thinking I could get out on my side, I opened my door slightly and looked down staring into the abyss. I immediately realized that there was no way out of the car on my side.
The officer then reached in, grabbed my hand and pulled me across the seat and out the door. That’s when I realized just what the tow truck driver meant when he said he witnessed three miracles.
The scene was surreal. Behind the tow truck was the highway patrol car, lights flashing brightly. Behind the police cruiser there was another tow truck and an ambulance with its lights flashing. As I took in the scene, a million questions flashed through my mind. Before I could ask, the rain started up again and the officer shuffled Carol and me into the back seat of his cruiser.
I rolled down the window enough the ask the officer, “What going on with all these other vehicles?”
He said, “The tow truck that secured you car already had a vehicle in tow and had to leave. We summoned another tow truck but just after your accident another car came careening into the back of the second tow truck that was here for you. The ambulance is here for that driver. We are now awaiting the arrival of a third tow truck to get your car out.”
Sitting in the cruiser, Carol and I thanked God for His grace in keeping us safe through this harrowing experience.
It seemed like forever for the third tow truck to arrive. By this time the rain had ceased, and I got out to see what damage my car had sustained. There was no obvious damage to the car’s exterior, but I feared the worst for the undercarriage.
When the tow truck arrived, the driver moved quickly to secure a winch line to our car and slowly eased it off the berm and onto the shoulder of the highway. He hooked up the car and looked at the undercarriage and surprisingly noted that there was no damage! This had to be a fourth miracle.
After thanking the police officer for his kind assistance, Carol and I entered the tow truck cab and we drove to a nearby gas station. The driver took our information and lowered the car, declaring it was undamaged and safe to drive.
I drove to church, arriving now twenty minutes after the normal conclusion of the service. There to greet us was the congregation’s priest and deacon. They told us that since I had a reputation of being at church no later than thirty minutes prior to the service start time, they knew something was wrong. The two of them prayed together for our safety and God’s protection over us.
At that moment, I quickly calculated that their prayer was precisely the moment we began our harrowing experience on the highway.
We shared our story and rejoiced together in humble but profound thanksgiving for the protecting hand of God and His immediate answer to our prayers.
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