Your word is a lamp for my feet,
a light on my path.
I have taken an oath and confirmed it,
that I will follow your righteous laws.
I have suffered much;
preserve my life, Lord, according to your word.
(Psalm 119:105-107)

A few weekends ago, my wife and I were on our way to the fourth of five weddings we will be attending by the end of this year. This particular wedding just so happened to take place at the exact moment that Hurricane Joaquin and its accompanying storms were stirring up major trouble along the East Coast, and it just so happened to be located in Annapolis, Maryland: A 3 hour drive down said coast.

At some point after crossing the Maryland border, the weather and road conditions had gone from bad to worse. It was pitch black, and it seems that Marylanders, like us folks here in New Jersey, have a strong distaste for streetlights of any kind lining their major roads.

It seemed we were in the middle of some vast stopping point for travelers: A 50mph winding, cramped, 3-lane road carved through row after row of motels, restaurants, and fuel depots as we looked for an exit onto the next major highway where, I was sure, driving would be far less treacherous. The slick pavement reflected the only light that was available—fast food and gas station signage—to the extent that it was impossible to see the painted lines between lanes.

It was at this point that I was getting very nervous about our situation. I felt completely out of control, flying down a road I was unfamiliar with as cars raced past me on both sides, searching for the exit that would take us out of danger.

We stopped at a red light and I took a quick moment to collect myself. I was thinking, "What I need is some big, slow-moving car that's familiar with the area heading toward the same highway as me that I can plant myself a few car lengths behind and follow all the way to the exit."

As the light turned green, the bright red rear lights of a minivan arced into my lane, giving me my anchor.

"Phew," I thought, "This is exactly what I needed."

It was at that moment that I noticed what the license plate of the minivan said. It read: "HIS WRD."

I stared at it, wide-eyed not only because of the darkness, but in sheer disbelief as the scriptural passage above popped into my head. Then, I started to grin and shake my head. Pointing to the ceiling of the car, I laughed and said, "well played…well played."

The minivan, of course, drove straight to the exit we were looking for. We followed them down the exit and for a short way on the highway itself before losing them in the sea of other cars rushing south into the darkness.

Needless to say, we made it safely to and from wedding #4 which, despite being held outdoors during a hurricane, was delightful.

For the rest of the weekend, I couldn’'t help but wonder what sort of person could have been driving that minivan and if they had ever unintentionally or unknowingly helped any other drivers in the past. I marveled at the events that must have transpired over a course of years that would lead that driver to purchase a custom plate with that particular message, take them out into the hurricane with the rest of us on that particular day at that particular time, and sit them immediately in front of my car not a minute after the idea of just such a deliverance first popped into my head.

Dear Lord, help us to recognize your hands and handiwork in our lives, no matter how small and insignificant or grand and obvious. Lead us through the darkness, both literal and figurative, and preserve our lives, Lord, according to "HIS WRD".

Contributed by Michael
Monday October 26, 2015
Liturgical Year B: Week 48
Liturgical Color: Green
Sunday Gospel reading: Proper25
Twenty-Second Sunday after Pentecost