It was about 7:30 in the evening as I neared the site where my car was parked. It had been a strenuous two hours walking the hills of western North Carolina. The venture was my first real hike since falling in October 2015, breaking my knee cap and tearing the ligaments on both sides of the knee.
Surgery and physical therapy had been painful but worthwhile. Since then it had been a regular routine on an exercise bike and a NordicTrack. Friends tell me I hardly limp at all anymore.
But this afternoon was the real thing — a three-mile walk on a circular trail. I did alright but going downhill was still the most difficult part. A mixed sense of relief and accomplishment filled me as I crossed those final yards to the trailhead.
Antifreeze puddle
That is when I saw it — a liquid puddle snaked from under my car and pooled just in front of the driver’s side headlight. Leaning over I felt the liquid. It was not oil but was slick to the touch. It was antifreeze. Three years earlier the water pump on the car had failed and the feel of the liquid drudged up unwelcome memories. I could see myself stranded with a broken down car alone in the woods as darkness neared.
Normal level
Before calling for help on my cell phone (I assumed there was coverage) I decided to test the car. It started. I watched the thermostat rise to its normal level and stop. I decided to attempt the five- or six-mile drive back to where my wife, Pat, and I were staying. Thankfully there was not a problem. The temperature gage never rose above normal.
The next day we headed back to Birmingham with a stop at the international terminal at the Atlanta Airport. On the first day of our getaway we had gone to the TSA office there for Pat to be interviewed for a Global Entry pass she needed.
Unfortunately the TSA computers went down the morning of her appointment and she had to reschedule for the afternoon of our return.
That morning there was no puddle under the car but before leaving Highlands, North Carolina, I purchased a gallon of antifreeze anyway. I did not want to get caught unprepared.
Uneventful drive home
The drive was totally uneventful. The car never overheated. We negotiated Atlanta traffic to the airport and found a parking space. Pat did the interview and we cruised back to Birmingham in time to attend a high school honors assembly for our oldest grandson. In all, it was a good day.
Wednesday morning was back to work in Birmingham. The car had performed so well I left the antifreeze in the garage. At noon I headed for a meeting that took me east on Montevallo Road. About 10 minutes from the office the inside of the car started getting warm and humid. Old memories flooded to the forefront as I glanced at the thermostat. The car was running hot and nearing the danger zone.
A safe place
Immediately I turned around hoping to get back to the office but that was not to be. The warning system started dinging and it would not quit. A sign came on saying engine power was reduced because the car was too hot. I could not stop without creating a major traffic jam and there was no place to pull off except into some stranger’s driveway.
I pushed the car for three more blocks and pulled into the parking lot of Mountain Brook Baptist Church. Later I was surprised at the relief that came over me when I pulled in. It felt like a safe place from the chaos of the situation. But isn’t that what a church is supposed to do?
A custodian offered water for the radiator but the water poured out as quickly as it was put in. There was no driving the car. It had to be towed. The church staff allowed me to wait in air-conditioned comfort for AAA to arrive. That was a blessing on a 90-degree day.
Fractured pipe
Later the service manager at the dealership from which I purchased the car reported a coolant pipe near the top of the engine had fractured making the situation look worse than it was. At first he thought the water was spewing out the top of the engine block. The problem was fixed in a matter of hours and I was back in my trusted six-year-old car.
Looking back
That is when I began to reflect on the whole experience: a water leak alone on a mountain trailhead; near perfect performance from my car the following day on mountain roads and interstate highways and even through Atlanta traffic.
We did not break down in some strange place. The crisis occurred after Pat and I were safely home, once we had access to familiar resources.
Was that coincidence or was that God?
In his book “Come and See,” the late Robert H. Jackson urges readers to look for God in the coincidences of life. He writes, “All persons experience coincidences in life. Obviously we do as Christians but with a decided difference. We who are believers look for the Father within those coincidences. When we do, we discover Him there, setting the stage for His glorification in the event as well as in the lives of those caught up with us in the mysterious happenings.”
‘Setting the stage’
I have no explanation why the leaking pipe held together long enough to get me off that North Carolina mountain, through Atlanta traffic and back to familiar surroundings. It should not have but it did.
Taking Jackson’s counsel, I cannot say it was all a coincidence. Instead I see God “setting the stage for His glorification in the event as well as … in the lives of those caught up in the mysterious happenings.”
What about you? Do you look for God in the circumstances of life or just chalk things up to coincidences?
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