The weather on Friday was beautiful—warm and sunny. It was the kind of day that lifted your spirits. According to the news, intermittent severe thunderstorms were a possibility in our area, but there was no sign of them anywhere near us, so that prediction seemed like a mistake.
I got a text from my daughter with a photo of a beautifully roasted turkey. The message was, “Do you want to come for supper?” Turkey in September? She had ordered a bushel of grapes she wanted to freeze and needed to make room in her freezer.
She lives over an hour away, but my husband and I decided to finish what we were doing and drive north to Crozet, Virginia, to enjoy turkey with Renee and her family.
The trip was calm and smooth. The traffic was light, and the car buzzed along like a top. What a great day! We had an enjoyable meal with our daughter’s family, then returned home shortly afterward so we could get home early. We’re at the age that we don’t like to drive after dark.
The sky was still clear and beautiful, but as we started toward home, the sun dropped to my eye level and glared through the windshield. Behind the wheel, I held one hand up to shield my eyes from its harsh rays. Instead of cutting over to the main highway, where I would have to fight the sun, I decided to take Patrick Henry Hwy, which twisted around the mountains and had lots of tree cover to shade the road.
As we approached home, we could see clouds building in the distance. One area on the horizon looked like rain. We got closer and closer. I joked with hubby, “It looks like it’s raining right over our house.” The road turned this way and that. We were about five miles from home when the rain began, just a sprinkle at first, but quickly building to a downpour. The sky became dark, and the automatic headlights came on.
There was evidence that there had been a heavy wind ahead of us. The road was covered with fresh leaves, and we had to dodge a large tree branch lying in our lane. Then we had to dodge another large object we couldn’t identify—maybe someone’s trash. Other smaller objects cluttered our route. The sky was now black.
Soon, we came upon a confusing sight: three cars were stopped with their headlights toward us. They weren’t lined up but were sitting at different angles. It looked like there had been an accident. We continued toward them slowly. To our left on the side of the road, something was leaning at an odd angle, but in the dark, with headlights shining in our eyes, we couldn’t tell what it was. We could only see that our lane was clear. I kept going. It wasn’t until heavy power lines slapped our windshield that we realized the thing at an odd angle was a snapped power pole. I panicked and tapped the brake, but by then, the power lines had slid up and were dragging along over the top of our car. I pushed the accelerator and kept going, heart pounding and hands shaking. We made it through safely.
Why were we not electrocuted? My husband said our rubber tires helped protect us, but I’ve heard stories about people losing their lives by coming in contact with power lines. I praise God that we were spared!
In times like this, you take stock of why you are still here. God could have taken us home in a heartbeat. Does He have something else for us to do here this late in life? I believe He does, and I intend to do it.