It was dark, cold, and dreary when I hopped into the car. I turned up the heater and waved a hand in front of the side vents. I left the Bible study late but hoped to return to my housesitting job before the sky opened up. During my week stay at the house, I memorized enough landmarks to know where to find the grocery store, the local Walmart, and even the post office. I felt secure driving out that evening that I would return to the house with little difficulties.
However, this was the night I forgot my driving glasses and could not make out the street signs. To make matters worse, I had a basic cell phone, without internet service, so I could not access an App to guide my way.
Lightning struck, and rain poured from heaven like sheets of water. My windshield wipers slapped the rain uncontrollably. I exited the freeway and met the type of dense fog you would see in a slasher film. A portion of me giggled as I pictured a hairy monster developing in front of me as I made my way through an empty residential street.
I slowed down at every intersection and strained to see the street signs. I turned left, I turned right, I even U-turned several times. I drove and drove sure that I had gone too far and needed to turn around again.
Frustration settled as a thirty-minute ride turned to an hour of needless circling. I called myself every name as I chided my memory for forgetting my glasses. It was late; who would I call to help me? Besides, I did not have the address to the house for someone to look up. I turned on the radio hoping that another person’s voice would slow the fears that wanted to penetrate my thoughts.
I cried. My ride now dragged on for two hours. How stupid could I be? A strange feeling of loneliness covered me. I finally stopped the car in the middle of a gravel path and leaned my head against the steering wheel. “Dear God, I have only you. Please, I know this is a stupid request, but will you help me find the house? I’m scared and lost. Please help me.”
I noticed the fuel gauge and decided to find a gas station, worried that my quarter tank of gas would not hold out during my expedition for land—already discovered and populated.
Before I returned to the main highway to find a station, I suddenly heard a tinking noise, tink, tink, tink. I looked at my dashboard and found my blinker signaling a right turn. “When did I turn that on?” I thought. I didn’t notice it before when I glanced at the gauge.
I stared at it for a few moments, and for some reason, I followed the signal and turned right. I drove down the street and noticed a scraggly oak tree that looked familiar, and then the neighbor’s statue of a beheaded Greek god on the lawn. I wondered if I had passed those before. I continued driving, and sure enough, there stood the house I temporarily called home.
Sitting in the garage, I wished I had cried out to God earlier. I felt dumb bringing my small prayer request before an Omnipotent God. I realized that when God acts like a father to a small child, He condescends to show that He loves us enough to override our foolishness and to answer our requests.
I do not know if God performed a miracle for me that night, but I do know Ecclesiastes 11:5, which says, “Just as you do not know the path of the wind and how bones are formed in the womb of the pregnant woman, so you do not know the activity of God who makes all things,” (NASB).
Nevertheless, I now have the freedom to bring all requests to God, whether large or small and rest knowing that He hears and answers all prayers in His way. Susannah Spurgeon, the wife of Charles H. Spurgeon, says it best, “Do remember, dear friend, that the God you love, the Master you serve, is never indifferent to your grief, or unwilling to hear your cry.” *
*Taken from Ray Rhodes’ book, “Susie: The Life and Legacy of Susannah Spurgeon, wife of Charles H. Spurgeon.”