I got up at 5:45 this morning to take my shower (the water was already off!) and to have my quiet time. Things actually were going pretty smoothly schedule wise but even with that and the fact I was very prepared with all my lessons, I still didn’t feel “right” and I knew it was more than just not feeling well physically. I shot off a quick e-mail to several friends and asked for prayer for some specific things for today.
While eating breakfast, Jim asked me if I wanted to stay home today. He knows I’ve not been sleeping well and that this cold is starting to take its toll on my energy levels. I told him yes, that I wanted to stay home but wouldn’t. I had six classes of English to teach on my day’s agenda and needed to go to school. He just gave me one of those, “Oh-good-grief-you’re-stubborn” looks, shook his head and loaded the car with our day’s worth of lessons, lunch and extra water bottles.
We left the house a bit early, around 7:30 a.m., which I thought was going to be nice so we wouldn’t have to try to hurry on the pot-holey (my own word…more creative vocabulary at work) road to Los Cedros. I always pray out loud in the car when we leave home…for protection of our home, for our protection, for safety for ourselves and our employees, for our family and friends and whatever burdens we are feeling for them at the moment. It’s something we began a long time ago in the States and we continue to do it here. I do the praying as Jim is driving…the one not necessarily in direct response to the other!
We came down the hill off our road on to the old road to Leon which is actually the road we take to Susanna’s and Los Cedros. Jim was doing fine, missing many of the head-bangin’ holes, stopped vehicles without tail lights and motorcycles weaving in and out of traffic. I wish there was some adequate way to convey how much concentration it takes to drive here. There are always people right on the edge of the road, as well as dogs and chickens. Plus traffic that wants to enter your lane from a side street or driveway, goes ahead and pulls right out in to your lane, stopping only at the last fraction of a second before actually making impact. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the method of driving here. I am surprised there’s not massive road rage occurring on every dirt, graveled, cobbled and paved roadway in the entire country!
Okay, so Jim’s doing a splendid job of driving when all of a sudden, we both realized at the same time, that the stoplight that hasn’t worked since our first visit to Managua was working! Since we arrived at that assessment by the bright red light beaming down at us, Jim hit the brakes and came to an abrupt stop, totally infuriating the guy behind us, who cordially let us know how he felt about it by tapping out the message with his horn! Just as quickly as we stopped, we remembered that there was a sign that indicated that particular light is a “siga de frente” which means that right lane traffic can go through the light whereas left lane traffic (turning and straight) has to stop. We were in the right lane. So was the car behind us until he managed to get around us and zoom off. We followed his lead before receiving any more spontaneous serenades.
That little snafu was good for the next minute’s conversation. Then, just as we were both starting to relax a bit, once again, we saw something at the same time. This time it was serious and we didn’t have the luxury of time to react. A pickup truck was pulling out of a lumber yard on the right hand side of the road (my side) and had a long piece of angle iron tied to the top of his truck. There were a load of problems with that…no flag on the end of the iron so it was almost impossible to see until the last second; it extended way past the front end of the truck; the truck didn’t ease out of the driveway but rather pulled out like most traffic does; and, no one was out in the road to alert oncoming traffic…like us.
Jim and I saw the angle iron at the same time and I yelled as he slammed on the brakes. He couldn’t veer out of the way in to the other lane as there was oncoming traffic. If he would have veered right, he would have plowed in to people standing by the side of the road and hit the truck (and driver) broadside. He had to hold his course, all the while thinking his wife was about to be decapitated. That thought crossed my mind, as well, as I jerked as far to the left and laid as flat as the seat belt would allow.
The brakes worked great but just not quickly enough and the sound of the impact of the angle iron hitting the car was tremendous. I kept expecting, at the very least, to be showered with broken glass and crumpled pieces of metal. Jim pulled the car off the side of the road and we both just looked at each other. There was a long thin line etched dead center on my side of the windshield. It began right at head level and continued all the way to the top.
Jim got out and I realized that he was taking something off the top of our car. It was the “tail fin” piece and it was snapped completely off the car, being held on only by one little screw. Jim pulled it off and opened up the back of the car to put it in. We both were looking back at the pickup truck which now had a crowd of guys standing there looking at us. Not one of them made a single move toward us. That was a mistake.
Jim started to get back in the car and I told him to pull forward as we were blocking a driveway and a truck was wanting out. As he started the car, I got out and headed back towards those men. I was furious!!!! Talk about road rage hitting in full force! I don’t remember being that determined in a long time. As I walked towards the men, they began to thin out considerably. I’m guessing they must have discerned I was as mad as I was! I could not believe that not one of them came to see if we were okay! Without exaggeration, they could have killed one or both of us and yet not a single man showed anything more than a detached curiosity. I was about to share my entire thought processes with them in a way that language barriers would not be a hindrance. But God spoke.
It’s amazing how long of a conversation a person can have with God in such a short distance. And it’s amazing how quickly He can take the anger away and bring to mind the miracle of His intervention. By the time I got to the few remaining men…I have no idea what happened to the larger group…my whole attitude changed. I was still shaken and I wasn’t very happy with what had just happened, but the anger was gone.
A very well-dressed man somehow appeared between me and the few men working on re-tying the piece of angle iron. They had backed the truck back in to the parking lot and they were tying on a thin, blue plastic bag. The well-dressed man seemed intent on preventing me from getting near the truck. I stuck out my hand and introduced myself. Obviously taken aback, he shook my hand and told me “Mucho gusto”…Pleased to meet you. I doubted the sincerity of his greeting.
I realized Jim was standing next to me. He had backed the car up to the lumber yard,, obviously thinking he might have to have a ready get-away vehicle standing by for his what-appeared-to-be-momentarily-deranged wife. Jim and the well-dressed man began looking at our car together and I realized the man spoke English. I heard the man tell Jim he would take care of all the repairs and that we didn’t have to worry. I wasn’t convinced but all of a sudden it didn’t really matter.
I walked back to the truck and the other two guys went in to the office, leaving only the one kid tying the angle iron. I asked him if he was okay…he said yes and he asked me if I was okay. I told him I was scared and I felt my voice crack. I took a deep breath and then asked him if he didn’t think it was a good idea to tie a red flag on the end of the angle iron. He told me he didn’t have a red flag. I told him that it was dangerous like it was. He said all he had was the blue bag. For an instance, I felt my heart melt. All he did have was a blue bag…and his buddies had left him holding it. I stuck out my hand, shook his and told him good-bye. He just stood and stared at me. He was no more shocked at my reaction than I was.
I then walked back to where Jim and the well-dressed man were still talking. The man was promising again that he would take of all the damages and that he was very sorry the incident happened. I told him God was gracious to us. He told us he was a doctor…as if his being a physician was going to be the reassurance we needed that he would make good on his word. He gave Jim his name and number and took our phone number. He said he would call us on Saturday. We’ll see.
Now here’s the deal. As far as I’m concerned, it really doesn’t matter. Our car now looks like a Nicaraguan car…banged, scratched and dented. It’s kind of like war wounds. What does matter is we weren’t hurt and we didn’t hurt anyone in the process…with our car, with our hands or with our words. God intervened so I kept my head…physically and emotionally.
Oh, I almost forgot something...God knows I love the moments of absurdity in life and even in the midst of this whole thing, He made sure there would be something funny happen. When Jim and I had pulled to the side of the road and Jim got out to check the damage, there was a street vendor who was loaded down with big balls of brightly colored "string" made of plastic strips. He had tons of them slung over his shoulders and in a huge bag. As I was looking back towards the group of guys at the truck, the vendor steps in to my line of vision and raises the giant glob of string, asking if I wanted to buy some. He didn't argue with my "no". Later, Jim and I laughed about that...how the guy was a salesman through and through, regardless of what had just happened and that perhaps we should have sprung for the ball of string to give to the kid on the truck to help secure the angle iron or to wrap it around it to help with the visibility. I can't make it as funny as it was...you'll just have to know that was one of those moments that you just have to shake your head at and say, "Can you believe it?"
After we got back in the car and continued on our way to Los Cedros, we began talking. We discussed how quickly our lives could have been drastically changed forever. We both freely expressed the goodness of God and then had to acknowledge that wouldn’t change even if the morning’s events would have turned out differently. Jim asked me if I was still shaky. I knew he was. I admitted that I was too, but surprisingly, I wasn’t as shaky as I thought I would be. I survived a piece of angle iron aimed right at my throat but I still had 140 plus children to face; children from the poorest families in Los Cedros; children who have no families at all but instead live in the local orphanage; children who didn’t attend school at all before this school took them in; children who are angry, lonely, insecure, scared, dirty and who have no dreams; children who God has put right in my path to love, to care about, to teach…not just English but to teach about Him. That makes me shaky.
One more thought…part of Hillsong’s, Mighty to Save, keeps going through my head so I looked up the lyrics…seems like a good theme song for a near miss with a section of angle iron.
Everyone needs compassion,
Everyone needs compassion,
Love that's never failing;
Let mercy fall on me.
Everyone needs forgiveness,
The kindness of a Saviour;
The Hope of nations.
Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.
Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.
So take me as You find me,
All my fears and failures,
Fill my life again.
I give my life to follow
Everything I believe in,
Now I surrender.
My Saviour,
He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.
Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.
Shine your light and let the whole world see,
We're singing for the glory of the risen King...Jesus
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