Yesterday I was headed to O'Hare airport on a blustery day that saw winds and storms we haven't seen the likes of in 70 years. My ultimate destination was Maryland, where I was expected to co-teach a "Gifted to Lead" workshop with Nancy Ortberg. As I approached the exit for the airport off the busy expressway, my Toyota Camry started to make an awful sound. I finally realized my tire must be flat and carefully attempted to make my way over to the right shoulder. Cars and trucks were whizzing by at an alarming speed. I looked in my rearview mirror, wondering what I would do next and how I would ever make my flight on time. As I was pulling over, a white van followed me slowly to the side. A sign on the side of the vehicle advertised some kind of woodworking company. A young man got out of the van and came over to look at my tire, which was clearly shot and smelled of burnt rubber. When I was a teenager, my father tried to teach me several times how to change a flat tire - but I never really listened. I admit, I am a helpless female when it comes to cars.
The flat tire was, unfortunately, on the same side as the expressway. What a precarious predicament! I opened my trunk, having no idea whether I had the right equipment for putting on a spare. Moving aside my box of books, random DVD's, umbrellas, and canvas grocery bags, we found the hidden tools and tire. I was beginning to see that this guy had every intention of helping me. I asked him for his name, and he said, "Mike." While changing the tire, Mike was literally a few feet from the vehicles whizzing by. I tried to stand there and slow the drivers down a bit, without much success.
If I had called AAA for help, I never would have made my flight. Mike was finished with the job in about 15 minutes. I asked him if he was an angel, and he just laughed. I gave him some money, which he tried to refuse, and thanked him over and over again.
Typically, I don't see God's presence as often as perhaps I should. I get a little annoyed if people seem to over-spiritualize every little detail of life. So it's not like me to think God would send me an angel. But I really think he did. That white van was exactly where it needed to be to keep me from harm and get me to Maryland on time. Mike was an agent of grace for me yesterday, and I am so very grateful. One of God's names in the Old Testament is El Roi, which mean "the God who sees." God sees you and me all the time, in every sorry predicament we find ourselves in. Not only does He see, but He cares. So I thank God for Mike, the angel woodworking guy. And I also thank God for what turned out to be a wonderful day with 256 women, mostly African American, gathered in a Maryland Baptist church to talk together about leading as a women in God's kingdom. I am the daughter of a God who loves me outrageously...

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