It had been a perfect day.  It was near eight o’clock on a late summer’s evening with a bit of twilight remaining.  As I drove down a sparsely populated highway, my wife and five young kids were falling asleep after a long day of getting up early and driving to a California theme park.  I knew that taking my family on a three-hour drive in the mini-van would run the risk of being a Griswold-like vacation ordeal.  With five extroverted and strong-willed kids, someone might predictably spill a soda-pop or argue over who sits where, testing dad’s low threshold of patience.  However, none of this happened, and the whole of the day was sheer fun.  The evening had arrived and the quietness gave me my first sustained moment to enter the presence of the Lord, giving Him thanks for the simple joy of family life.  Yet, the day was not ideal as I realized my self-centeredness, neglecting some Kingdom service beyond my own personal life.

In an instant, my solitude was interrupted as a rapping sound came from the engine area.  I looked at the instrument panel in time to see the heat gauge climbing and suspected a broken fan belt.  I alerted Meredith as to what was happening and began driving much slower.  We exited the freeway onto a service road and came to a stop sign in the middle of nowhere.  The temperature gauge entered into the red zone and seeing no apparent direction to turn, I steered toward a sole mercury vapor lamp at the edge of a grove of oak trees a hundred yards away.  It was a late holiday evening, no AAA, little cash, and a two-hour drive to home.  My prayers turned to the Lord with less than a thankful disposition.

We parked under the lamp that was next to a small building that appeared to be a restroom.  We found ourselves at a small makeshift campground.  The dim light offered me no help and even if it had, the knowledge would bring no immediate solution to the mechanical problem.  Leaving the family huddled in the car, I needed to develop a plan and find a phone.  As I walked toward where I could see a few more lights in a hodgepodge of fifth-wheel trailers, I caught a whiff of barbeque and in the darkness I could make out the silhouette of a man tending his grill.  He acknowledged my presence, and I explained my dilemma and the need to call a tow truck or find a ride for the seven of us to a motel.  He listened and without explanation told me to return to my van where he would meet me with his work truck.  Within a few minutes, we met at the van and, looking under the hood with his flashlight, confirmed a broken fan belt.  Again, without explaining, he set up a high wattage lamp attached to a portable tripod and then started up a generator that flooded the van with light.  Without a word, he slipped on latex gloves, opened a ratchet set and began taking off all three belts.  But why work on fixing the engine without a replacement fan belt?  He said that earlier in the day, one of his customers bartered with him and paid him with fan belts that were in the truck’s bed.  My angst began to turn to relief.  To my utter surprise, we found an exact match among his collection.

I wondered if his motive for helping was to make a quick buck off my predicament.  I wrote and offered him a check for a respectable amount without hesitation, but asked if it was enough.  He declined to accept anything, saying something about doing a good deed. As he continued to methodically work, I believed that this was a “God moment,” a divine assignment where the Lord arranges two lives to intersect for a purpose.  Quickly getting past the chit-chat, I told him he was the Lord’s answer to our needs.  His skills, special lights and even the right auto part were available for a reason.  He seemed to welcome my words.  Inviting me to say more, I spoke to him about the Lord Jesus, doing my best not to sound like a nut-case.  He reciprocated in demeanor, opening up his own life a bit and expressing regrets about past relationships.

Something was going on in this man’s soul, and I was meant to be there for a reason of eternal importance.  I do not remember if he heard anything more than me expressing the truth of the nearness of the Lord, that He is closer to each of us more than our natural senses indicate.  It may be my wishful thinking, but we connected for a few moments, soul-to-soul.

I thanked him for his service, and he thanked me for my thoughts. Within forty-five minutes from the time the fan belt broke to when he tightened the last bolt, the van was fixed.  We parted—he back to his barbeque and we back to the freeway entrance.  As the family settled back into a quiet rest, I returned again to my fellowship with the Lord, thanking Him for indeed giving me a perfect day.

Looking at realities beyond our senses is developed in Rumors of Another World: What on Earth are we Missing?  by Philip Yancey.