He Heard My Cry

It was a Monday morning a few weeks ago.  My car had not moved since Friday night when we had a blizzard.  More snow ensued over the weekend, as did a snow plow which successfully pinned in my car.

And yet none of this crossed my mind on that Monday morning prior to me finding my car in its immovable state.

I’ll warm it up, scrape it off, and hopefully be on my merry little way, I ignorantly thought.

The warming it up and scraping it off went without a hitch.  It was the “being on my merry little way” that was the struggle.  I put my car in reverse, but it didn’t budge.  I put my car in drive, but it still wouldn’t budge. 

I pulled out my trusty scraper and started to use it like a pick-ax on the packed snow surrounding my tires.  But they just spun.  Next, I tried rocking my car back and forth, but it wasn’t going anywhere.  Then, I tried to push my car, but it still wasn’t going anywhere. 

20 unsuccessful minutes later, I was now late for a meeting.  My fingers and toes were numb, and I was damp up to my knees.  And to top everything off, I broke my scraper.  I collapsed into my drivers seat and did what every good woman would do in that situation: I cried. 

God, I don’t know what else to do.  Can You please send someone to help me?

I grabbed my now-broken scraper and got out of my car once again to try to shovel out around my tires.  That’s when I saw them… headlights turning onto my street.  I waved to the white minivan as it pulled over and turned on its blinkers.  To my delight, a gentleman hopped out, “Need a push?”

With his (His) help, I pulled out of my parking spot and was finally on my way, so grateful that He heard my cry and answered my prayer.

“I waited patiently for the Lord; He turned to me and heard my cry.” –Psalm 40:1


~ by Serena on March 8, 2010.

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