God, Our Protector

I am especially thankful for God’s protection these days. I believe sometimes He intervenes from behind the scenes and miraculously saves us from harm. And we, finite creatures that we are, don't see the full picture and come away saying, "Wow. That was close." How humble God must be to intercept a danger and remain anonymous. Maybe in Heaven we will be able to look back across our life and see how many times and in how many ways God protected us.

Several incidents occurred recently to give me this renewed gratefulness for God’s protection:

#1: The children and I rode along with John on his errands one day. We could see the ticket counter from where we were parked, so we voted to stay in the vehicle and wait while John purchased tickets. Because we would be in the truck, John didn’t bother to lock doors or roll up windows –both mandatory safety procedures when leaving a vehicle unattended in town. Those neglected gestures were not lost to some men standing nearby. Hardly did John have his back turned until two opportunists hurried towards the truck. One rounded the front corner, heading to the driver’s door and the other came towards the back door where the children and I were sitting. It was he who noticed us first and quickly said a sentence in Twi to his pal. I understood the word “Bruni” (white person) and the two of them whirled around and soon disappeared in the busyness of the bus station.

I knew they weren’t after us, but it would have been scary if they had boldly stolen something from the truck with us sitting there.  God knew that. Wasn’t it kind of Him to cause the man to see us before he opened the door? And wasn’t it good of God to make a woman and two children enough of a deterrent for the men to hurry off? Instead of a big scare to talk about for months to come, the children never knew anything about it.

#2: This week John took the motorcycle to town. Good wife that I am, I worry a little bit about him in the traffic on that thing and found it no comfort when he sent me this text: “Almost rammed a bolt thru rim. At fitter.”

He had been driving on the freeway, a busy road where traffic makes really good time for two reasons. One, it is new (which means it is smooth) and, two, it has limited access enforced by cement walls and jersey barriers. On this busy stretch, John felt terrible bumping and stopped the motorcycle along the edge of the road. There he discovered he had picked up a large bolt in the rear tire and knew he could go no farther. John climbed over the wall and guardrail and found four men willing to help heft the motorcycle across the barrier. He pushed the motorcycle a mile to get to a mechanic where they found the rend in the tube was irreparable and the rim was dimpled, but safe to use.

Can you see the large hole?

God was so good. A puncture on the busy highway was not a good thing but it could have been exponentially worse if it had been the front tire instead of the rear. I have heard stories of front tires bursting and the motorcycle becoming an uncontrollable beast that thrashes around the road and often overturns.

#3: God is our protector in other ways as well. This week there were children at our gate. Again. I stood at the front door trying to discern if I was needed or if they would tire of their game of Make the White Man’s Dog Bark and go away on their own. It looked like they were growing bored and leaving, so I turned around, grateful I didn’t need to bother parenting someone else’s children. Just then there was a BANG like that of a small firecracker or a pop-gun that sounded loudly in our living room. John was walking towards me just then and stopped, startled.

“Did you hear that?” John asked, wanting to know if it was all in his head. We definitely had.

The noise had sounded beside John but the only thing close by was a tote that had nothing in it but curtains, candles, and coffee mugs. None of those items spontaneously say “bang.” We checked light and fan switches, thinking maybe those had blown, but nothing was amiss.

There simply was no explanation for the bang.

We told our director and his wife about it and they, people of great experience and wisdom, determined it to be a disturbing ghost. We had a time of prayer to dedicate this house to God and offered it to Him for His glory.

I assume the goal of the noise was to strike fear and, indeed, it had that potential in me. I fought fear and turned to God for my assurance. I know God is our protector. The righteous can run to him and be safe, the Bible says, so I ran to Him and found refuge from the fears.  

I love Psalm 18:2 for it details the provision He is for us:

The LORD is my rock 

(never changing stability),

My fortress 

(a place of security from the warfare raging around us)

And my deliverer. 

(Think power and the potential for miracles.)

My God is my Rock in whom I take refuge, my shield. . . 

(safety)

The horn of my salvation. 

(salvation = deliverance)

My stronghold. 

(A safe impregnable hiding place.)

I stand amazed and so grateful to God, our Protector.