When one of my kids’ images appears on screen, I pick up the phone. It is my oldest daughter, so I playfully taunt her with a nickname she prefers not. Somberly, she declares that she and our granddaughter are on the side of the road with a flat, three hours into the three-and-a-half-hour drive from their home to ours. “Are you in a safe place?” Yes, they pulled off the road and out of the way of traffic. Although she has the skill and fortitude to change the tire herself, I tell her just to sit tight; I’ll be there in 30 minutes. They are in a strange neighborhood, and I think it possible my granddaughter has the skill and fortitude to require the attention of someone not completely distracted by replacing a tire. So, I am off in a moment for the brief drive to a bit of unplanned perspiration.
When anything goes wrong, we often silently mouth David’s words: “Why, O LORD, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?”
Ten minutes out, she texts me: “Kind strangers found me.” I smile inside, mostly because someone is helping my loved ones; partly, because I won’t be changing a tire by myself. By the time I arrive, three strangers (yes, literally three; no, I’m not taking license from Mamre) are putting the last lug nut on the spare and replacing the jack and tire tool. I barely make it in time for them to reject my four offers of gratitude three times. Coming from I-know-not-where, assisting mother and daughter in distress, seeking no reward, carrying hard-worn tools in a hard-worn truck, they take time to apologize to her for not speaking better English; I assume they are more comfortable conversing among angels.
Sometimes the messenger comes from above, as Gabriel to Daniel; sometimes from beside, as Epaphroditus to Paul. Always, “the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to give strong support to those whose heart is whole toward him.”
This week, may we be the faithful angels, servants, messengers, God sends to the people he sees in need along our path.