Usually the sight of red and blue flashing lights
on a highway patrolman's squad car coming up behind me
is less than reassuring.
In fact, the sight is usually accompanied by a sinking feeling
in the pit of my stomach and an awareness that
I've not been paying attention to "the rules".
But last night, sitting in my truck on the side of the road
with a blown out rear tire,
talking on my cell to a tow service in a nearby town,
those lights were more than welcome.
When a young patrolman came to my window
and offered to change the tire for me, I was overwhelmed with SFH
and gratitude for something I certainly had not orchestrated.
Sure, I was taking care of the situation in the best way I knew how,
but to be surprised by goodness on Hwy 84, two hours from home...
well, it made my day.
God, thank you for Tommy Hill
and for all those other angels I've missed
when I thought I could do it myself.
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