The Protection

I don’t remember how old I was, probably two or three.

My mom had taken us to our Grandma’s house to visit. We were sitting in the kitchen when we heard a loud explosion coming from the front of the house. I vaguely remember Mom jumping up and then running to the phone.

I don’t remember every detail, but I remember enough. I remember sitting around the table. And I remember standing on a barstool to look out the windows of the front door. I remember seeing flames and several firemen surrounding our car.

The car was demolished. Burnt to a crisp inside and out. The consensus was that the catalytic converter caught the leaves underneath the car on fire, thus igniting the car. The heat from the fire caused the front tires to explode. After it was all said and done, there was no hope of salvaging anything. The 1989 Caprice Classic was a charred mess.

By the time the firemen arrived, the flames had spread from the engine to the trunk of the car, and the baby car seats were melted into nothingness.

Mom was only running into the house to pick up something and had almost left me and Kayla in the car. It’s a good thing she decided against it.

The only two items that survived the inferno were my Dad’s Thompson Chain Study Bible and the missionary money in a bag that hadn’t been mailed out yet. Both items were on the front floorboard. They didn’t even get wet from the water they sprayed into the car.

My Dad still has that Bible. And the missionary’s received their offerings.

And Kayla and I are still alive.

God moves in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform.

to those unsure if God cares about them,
– Caleb