33: Message at Midnight

33: Message at Midnight

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Miracles Happen

Message at Midnight

Never drive faster than your guardian angel can fly.

~Author Unknown

Late in the evening, driving rain pounded against the outside walls of our bedroom. By lamplight my husband focused on the book he was reading as I sat cross-legged, studying my Bible. Suddenly, an ominous feeling swept over me, but I couldn’t figure out its origin. I could think of nothing in particular that was bothering me.

As my heart raced, I bowed my head and prayed, “What is it, God? Please tell me what is happening.” Over and over, I prayed those few words until the confusion began to subside and a clear thought came into focus: Your child is in danger.

My child is in danger? Which child? I tried to think. My daughter and younger son were in bed asleep, so it couldn’t be one of them. It had to be my older son, Mike.

I fervently began to pray. God, please, please! I don’t know what is going on, but Mike needs you. Please be with him. Please take care of him. Please protect him. God, be with him. God, hear my prayer. Please don’t let anything happen to him! Over and over and over I pleaded with God to be with my teenage son. He was in danger, and all I could do was desperately cry out to God in my prayer to save my son.

Tears poured down my face. By this time, my husband, who was capable of mentally shutting out everything around him when he read, was staring at me.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked. I had never before had a meltdown in a bedtime Bible study, and my husband seemed very puzzled that I had chosen this time and place to fall apart.

“Something bad is going to happen to Mike! Something is really, really wrong!” I told him.

“What do you mean? And how do you know?” he asked.

“I don’t know how I know,” I confessed. “I just feel in my spirit… somehow God is telling me that something bad is going to happen to Mike, and I’ve been praying frantically for him.” I was sobbing and trembling as I shared this troubling information. Instead of discounting my revelation, my husband looked truly concerned.

Immediately, I returned to God with my plea. I really don’t know how long I prayed, only that I prayed until the urgency slowly subsided and a peace filled me with the assurance that God had indeed heard my prayer.

“Honey, you’ve done all you can do. Just lie down and rest,” my husband finally said. He turned off the light, and we both lay awake in the dark, listening to the wind and the rain.

This was the summer between high school and college for my son. His girlfriend had recently moved to a town some distance away, and he had driven this evening to see her as he often did over the course of the summer. During the day, it would have been a picturesque drive on winding country roads in the mountains of North Carolina, but not late on a rainy night.

From out of the darkness, a possum had darted in front of Mike on his drive home. He jerked the wheel to avoid the possum but then the vehicle spun off the wet road, hit an embankment and flipped onto its roof. A barbed wire fence entangled the front end of the car and held it in place; the rear hatch window shattered, and most of the car’s roof crushed from the impact with the ground. Had passengers been sitting in the back seats, they would have been seriously injured or killed, for that part of the roof was flattened. Yet the portion of the roof over Mike’s head was protected because it lay on top of a small drainage ditch and, therefore, was not crushed.

Suspended upside down by his seat belt, he released the latch and flipped himself over onto the glass scattered across the roof below. Carefully, he squeezed through the only escape route possible: a glassless window. A kind stranger, who happened to be out late on that rainy night, immediately stopped to help him. A highway patrolman arrived quickly at the scene and expressed difficulty believing that the young man standing before him had indeed survived the crash without a scratch.

When the phone finally rang in our bedroom, Mike’s trembling voice broke as he spoke. “Mom, I’ve had a bad wreck, but no one was hurt.” While my son may have felt confused by my joyous reaction, I believe his guardian angel, remaining close to my son’s side, shared my indescribable happiness and smiled.

~Joan McClure Beck

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