Parting the Red Sea … or Some Dump Trucks

Carpathian mountainsA friend of mine, Peggy Simmons, smuggled Bibles into Eastern Europe in the 1970s and early ‘80s. She has written an as-yet unpublished manuscript about her adventures. On one trip she was driving and their team leader, Gary, was asleep in the back.

I don’t remember how many days we had been on the road, but I do remember we were high in the mountains of Carpathia. The mountains here are spectacular. Rough, steep precipices, they are second cousins to the Alps. Their tops poke through the sky in sharp jagged lines…

I had been driving for hours already. Leita and I were up front, talking and laughing. Both of us happy to be on another mission. It was a beautiful fall day. Gary was sleeping peacefully in the backseat.

The road ahead was curving wildly and I gained momentum fast as we topped the peak and began our descent. Down we went, gaining speed quickly. Suddenly as we careened around a curve, two huge dump trucks popped into view, head to head. They were coming straight at us, one trying to pass the other! The cliff was a sheer drop-off to my right with no guardrail, and the mountain loomed sharply on my left. On this small curvy two-lane road, there was no shoulder and no way to brake in time! The trucks were going to hit us head-on!

I remember having just enough time to scream “Jesus!” as I closed my eyes tightly, expecting to plow straight into them! But no impact came! Amazed, I slit open my eyes enough to see us still whizzing down the road, no trucks in sight! Quickly, I glanced in my rearview mirror and there they were! I screamed in amazement! The two trucks were still side-by-side, still inching up the hill behind us! Leita was gripping my arm, squealing in fright. I put on the brakes and slowly came to a stop, still shaking like a leaf.

Jesus, Jesus! I whispered through clenched teeth. Leita and I both started breathlessly to talk nonsense at the same time.

“Did you see that? What happened? We went right through them!” We were laughing and crying all at once. The excited noise woke up Gary, who rubbed his eyes groggily.

“What’s wrong? Why’d we stop?” he pulled himself up with a groan.

“I was sure I hit him!” I said.

“Hit who?” Gary asked, jerking himself up quickly in alarm, wiping at his eyes.

“The trucks! The trucks!” In gibberish, I tried to explain what had happened and eventually calmed down enough to let him know what should have happened, but somehow didn’t!

Once again we realized with awe how much God wanted those Bibles to get to his children. Even if He had to part the Red Sea … or a couple of dump trucks.

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One Response to Parting the Red Sea … or Some Dump Trucks

  1. Mark L says:

    WoW!!!

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