WHEN TIME STOOD STILL
I had often wondered what prompted the Psalmist
to write those poems. Did he really know the Lord was his shepherd,
or had he just written that psalm as he lay dreaming in the fields?
And why did he talk about angels? Why did he say they would “lift
you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone”? Was it just
pretty prose, or had experience taught him something others did not
yet know? I’d been thinking about that a lot lately, especially
about the angels in the 91st Psalm, but it wasn’t on my mind
at all the day we decided to go on a family outing.
With my husband working long hours, opportunities for us to do things
together were rare, so we decided to take the day and go exploring
with the kids. We’d heard there was a ferry you could ride across
the Missouri River at the northern boundary of our state. It would
be fun to see if we could find it.
After two weeks of rain, we were happy to see the sun. It would be
a long trip, so we took turns driving. That’s why I was at the
wheel when it was time to watch for signs to the ferry. To our dismay,
there was nothing. Even though the location was clearly marked on
the map, there was nothing on the road. Thinking we must have missed
the sign somewhere along the way, we turned around.
After a while, we spotted a small, weathered sign with a hand-painted
arrow and the word, “Ferry,” barely visible on it. Not
knowing what else to do, we decided to give it a try, but the further
we went, the more uneasy I felt. I don’t like driving on dirt
roads, and besides, this road was going up! Wouldn’t you go
down to get to the river?
“Let’s just go a little farther and see what we can find.”
After all, the sign had pointed this way. “Perhaps it will start
down soon,” but no, the road continued going uphill, getting
narrower and narrower, until finally it became more of a path than
a road.
Then, as the brush cleared away, I could see we weren’t near
the river at all. We had driven out onto a narrow promontory, where
the earth dropped away steeply on both sides of the car. “We’ll
turn around when we get to the end,” I said, trying to sound
confident, but it wasn’t to be. There, only a few yards ahead
of us, was the end of the land, and the end of the road, and there
was no place to turn around.
I knew I’d be courting disaster if I tried to back up. With
such a narrow, winding path, I could back right off the cliff. I had
no choice but to try to turn around. It would be risky, with the ground
so soft from all the rain, but what else could I do? Promising myself
I would be very careful, I slowly edged forward and back, forward
and back, making the turn bit by bit. Then it happened.
As we came around from the final turn, the ground gave way, and the
right rear wheel went out from under us. I could feel the car laboring
as it began sliding slowly toward the edge of the cliff. Fear welled
up inside me, and everything went into slow motion. The silence was
so thick you could cut it with a knife. I wanted to scream, but I
knew if I did we’d lose it all. I had to hang on. “Oh
God, please don’t let us lose it all over a stupid mistake like
this!”
Instinctively, my whole being became riveted to one thought: “He
shall give his angels charge over thee. They shall lift thee up, lest
thou dash thy foot against a stone. They shall lift thee up, they
shall lift thee up, they shall lift thee up…” Those words
by the Psalmist were all I could think of. They were all I dared think
of.
There really aren’t words to describe what happened next. I
can only say that something pushed my foot down on the accelerator,
clear to the floor. At the same time, I could feel something lifting
up the wheel that was sinking and spinning in the air. Mud flew everywhere,
but little by little, the car started moving forward until all four
wheels were safely back on the ground.
I was speechless, I was stunned, and I was shaking. Here we had nearly
gone over the edge of the cliff, and now there we were, back on solid
ground. From the depths of my soul I uttered a prayer of gratitude
for the profound gift we were given in that precious moment when time
stood still.
Until now, I’ve never talked about this experience with anyone.
It was so incredible, I didn’t know if anyone would even believe
me. In fact, I don’t know why I’m writing about it now,
except perhaps to say that if you’ve ever wondered about the
Psalmist, as I did, you don’t need to wonder any more. We’ll
probably never know just where he met his angels, but there is no
doubt in my mind that the Psalmist knew what he was talking about
when he wrote those words.
And now so do I.
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~Donna Miesbach~