Faith – Road Tested by Amy Mitchell

0
253
The local reporter for the newspaper took this photo and sent it to me. I was still trapped in the car.

Before that summer’s eve on a mountain road, my faith was conditional.  God was a genie in a bottle, to be called upon in dire circumstances.  “This is silly,” I thought, hesitating. “I have the green light.  There’s a line of cars behind me; they’re going to start honking.” Despite my unexplained fear, I proceeded into the intersection like a sitting duck, making a left turn on a blind curve.  And then, I heard it.  The roar of her engine preceded the flash of headlights just before I felt the impact of a missile on my driver’s side.  I careened into multiple 360-degree rotations; my head flopping recklessly back and forth. Preparing to meet my maker, I murmured, “I’ll see you in a few minutes God.”  I drifted, coming to rest, nose to nose against the mountain, strangely without impact.  I smelled gasoline. Trapped, panic began to swell.  Afraid to turn my neck, I heard a man’s voice in the backseat say, “I’ll stay with you until the paramedics arrive.”

Within minutes, I heard sirens.  A firefighter entered through the passenger door.  I asked, “Where’s that man?”  He answered, “What man?”
My faith is now unconditional.  It has been road-tested.

This is a small representation of the high-quality writings you’ll find in every issue of TIFERET.

We receive no outside funding and rely on subscription sales, workshop fees, and donations to publish. If you enjoy our journal’s verbal and visual offerings, we hope you’ll consider supporting us in one of these ways.

Subscribe Today to Read More!