Note to readers: My dashboard indicates that this post was published last night at 10:00pm. If that's the case, I accidentally posted a draft I dashed off last night before bed. I did some significant editing this morning, so if you read this post on Saturday night or before 7 am CST, you only read a rough version of it.
Earlier this week, in another blog, someone made a disparaging comment about people who interpret fortunate encounters as contact with angels. You know the kind of story I'm talking about.
My car broke down at 3:00 am on a dark road over 30 miles from the nearest town. No one is ever on that road late at night because it's a service road that goes to the old mill that closed years ago. I was only there because I got lost. Well it was 10 degrees below zero and I thought I was going to freeze to death until a man came along and got my car started. He had hot cocoa and a blanket, too.
Somehow the teller of the story is convinced that this was an encounter with an angel.
In the urban legend version, the account would include absurd embellishments.
I turned to say goodbye, but he was gone, and there were no tire tracks or footprints in the snow.