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Miracle on 395
by Jen Shroder

When I was 19, I was traveling from Mammoth Lakes to Los Angeles in a convertible Mustang, down a long lonely two-lane highway in the Mojave desert. It was summer in the heat of the day, middle of the week, which means cars were few and far between.

My Mustang broke down and there I was stranded with the hood up looking at the engine helplessly. Eventually a car showed up, it was a small, boxy Toyota-something. It parked a little in front of my car and sat there. All I could see was the back of two thick necks as large men in the back seat didnít turn around. I thought this odd and had a bad feeling about this.

I made my way to the driverís seat but with the top already down, I knew my car wasnít gong to give me very much protection. Suddenly the driver, a small but extremely angry looking man, got out of the car and started walking toward me at a fast pace, as though his adrenalin was pumping. The men stuffed in the back seat still didnít turn around. I started yelling, "Iím fine, Iím fine, itís just overheated" as I climbed into the driver's seat, trying to pretend he had gotten out of his car to help me. But he kept coming and passed my engine without a glance coming straight for me. Iíll never forget his expression or how he was approaching, sort of trembling in angry determination. I have often thought of his affect since then, like when I took a Mace class and the officer was describing various situations. Reasoning with a man like this would be like a small animal trying to reason with a hawk as it swooped in for the kill. Whatever was about to happen, it was going to happen fast as he approached, trembling with adrenalin and I had no where to go.

And then, past my engine and reaching for my door, past the point of no return and his evil intention clear, he suddenly looked to his side down the road and froze, then turned and quickly walked back towards his own car. I turned to look at what he saw and there on the horizon was a police car.

This was unbelievable. Even in todayís unbelievable movies, the timing of a Sheriff showing up in the seconds between his passing my engine and reaching my door on a highway that rarely saw another car was pretty far fetched. And then for that car to be a Sheriff or CHP (I didnít know the difference, I just thanked God he had a gun!) was even more unbelievable. But it was true. And Iíve taken comfort from this ever since because even though many would say it was a coincidence, I know it was God, especially now, especially after all the other things that have happened since then. And I recognize His signature. I think He wanted me to know it was Him, thatís why it was so precisely timed. Just seconds before, that man could have pretended he was just there to help. Once he passed my engine with obvious evil intentÖthereís no doubt in my mind. God was in the timing. And Iím just so thankful to Him!

The ride into Mojave with the CHP/Sheriff was as frightening as the experience though. Oh he was a wonderful man! But while this situation happened in a few moments, I had a ride with a Sheriff that was happy to describe all the grizzly things they find in that desert and how lucky (blessed) I was that none of them happened to me.

I know there are many people who have suffered horrible fates and how I was saved might seem unfair, but I firmly believe that suffering happens on this planet, not in heaven. Heaven is a reward that we all fight so hard to avoid. And though many of us suffer just before our arrival, heaven is eternal. God has a plan for all of us, some are to come home sooner than later, but home we will surely come. I think the only thing that matters is that when we do, we know Christ. For none of us are worthy, no not one, only in Christ can we be presented, washed in His glory, able to leave all our sins behind and enter in.

Please know Him. Jesus Christ is the biggest decision you will ever make.


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