Watchin' God Book Two: Angels and Gas Cans

 

Finally!

Order it from Blurb HERE   in Softback or as a PDF readable on your devices.

It's not on Amazon.  Yet.  One step at a time, right??  And I need a dedicated website, too.  Another step.  

But you can find me on facebook HERE.

Here's the Title Chapter for your reading pleasure!
(**For the most part, I don't do daring stuff unless I'm sure Jesus has my back! Race car drivers are trained to drive 200mph, but it's not advisable for ordinary mortals to do that!  Same with my stories.  Unless you are absolutely sure Jesus has your back, I do not recommend "driving" like I do!!  Babystep your way to some of these stories!)

Chapter 9

Angels and Gas Cans

We’d been on the Interstate for a while, heading home to South Carolina from somewhere far away.  Maybe New York?  I dunno.  Anyway, the gas light came on in my Honda.  No problem.  It gets a maximum of 510 miles to a tank of gas on the highway, which we had been all day, so there’s a good possibility it was New York.  By my calculations, we should have made it home with a few miles to spare.

Home was only 16 miles away when the brave little car stuttered and then stalled.  Maneuvering a vehicle with power steering when it’s stalled is a little tricky, but it was still rolling toward the conveniently located exit.  I managed to get pulled off the Interstate.

I didn’t have cash, so my teenage son wouldn’t be able to use my debit card to purchase a gas can and gas.  I left him to guard the car as I walked down the long exit road.  

Lo!  A gas station!  Thanks, Lord!

There was a convenience store at the 4-pump station.  In those days (it’s 2023 as I write), gas cans didn’t cost more than the gas to fill them, which was good, because it was close to payday, which means I didn’t have much money left in the bank.  

As I was locating the red gas can, a scraggly old guy asked me if I’d run out of gas.  (My memory has him being a nice looking man of about 70, 5’7” or so, maybe 150 pounds, with white wavy air – but in the story I wrote in 2007 I called him “scraggly”.  Good thing most of these stories were written at the time of the incident!)  I confessed my failure to gauge the mileage correctly.  

“Let me buy that for you”, he offered.

Well, Lord, that was mighty nice of you!  I’ll take it as a blessing and let the guy be nice.  I’m sure you’ll bless him, too.

“Thank you!  I appreciate it!”

We both walked up to the video-surveilled cash register, where he paid for the gas can and the gas.  

As he was pumping the gas, he asked where the car was parked.  

“At the top of the exit.”

“Let me give you a ride.”

Well, Lord… when I die I’m going to heaven, right?  If something happens to me between here and the car, at least we are both on the video camera footage, and my son will miss me soon if I don’t show up. You do a great job of protecting me, too.  So, I’ll let him be nice a little longer.  

[**Warning!  Your results may differ.  On the advice of a police officer friend, I must remind you that this is not often a good idea.  Don’t try this at home without the clear approval of the Holy Spirit!]

“That would be very nice of you.  Thanks!”

We got in his ragged, old, little red pickup truck and puttered the half mile along a service road, stopping opposite my car.  The kind gentleman pulled off the road very close to a four-foot wire fence that was too tall and rickety to climb over, and then he helped me up into the bed of the truck and I jumped down over the fence.  He handed the gas can to me so he could do the same.  

The ditch at the bottom of the fence made the landing a bit precarious.  We walked across the right-of-way between the service road and the Interstate, over a ditch and through six-inch high grass (and I didn’t even think to worry about snakes!) 

As the kind gentleman was emptying the gas into the tank, we chatted about not much of anything.  Or, as my friends say, I was chatting, he was listening.  When the gas can was empty and he was putting the cap back on, I turned around, took two steps to the front door of the car, ducked my head in the car to get a gospel tract for him (even if I had any cash, I wouldn’t have offended him by offering) and stood up, getting ready to walk those two steps back to give the pamphlet to the man – who wasn’t there!  

The gas can was on the ground, but he was gone!  His truck was gone, too!  I looked up and down the service road, but his truck was nowhere to be seen!  What was that?  Maybe seven seconds?  Totally impossible.

Seriously.

And then I knew what my guardian angel looked like.  

I saw him again in 2016, and he had upgraded his little red truck.  That’s another story.  

 

Go ahead! Order a copy for yourself and a friend!  (Really.  Shipping is cheaper and faster if you order at least two.  You know someone else who needs a good book, right??)

It would be encouraging to hear what you think.  Leave me a comment!