Tomorrow morning the Southern gospel quartet “His Anointed” had to be in Georgia to perform during a Sunday service. I didn’t sing with the group, but as the sound technician and bus driver, I felt responsible for getting everyone there on time.
So when our bus broke down on Interstate 85, I started praying, hard. Lord, get us all to Georgia somehow!
A couple of the guys walked to a service station off the Fair Play, South Carolina, exit just as a light rain started to fall.
“What are the chances that it will be open at this hour on a Saturday night?” I wondered aloud. But soon enough the guys returned with the owner in his truck.
“You’re lucky I got called in to change a flat tire on a big rig tonight,” the garage owner said.
He checked out the bus to see if he could fix it right there on the road, but unfortunately it was too badly damaged. He took us and the bus back to his garage.
Our destination was still about an hour and a half away. I couldn’t see how we would be able to get there tonight—or at all. There were eight of us altogether in the quartet and crew, plus our sound equipment—and no bus.
“We’re supposed to sing at a church service tomorrow morning,” one of the quartet members explained to the garage owner.
The garage owner looked at the bus, then back at us, as if he were struggling with himself.
Finally he said, “I don’t know why I’m doing this…but I’ve got a minivan over there that would fit you all in it. Why don’t you take it to Georgia tonight? You can bring it back here when you come to get your bus.”
The minivan sat eight people—there was plenty of room for everyone. Not only that, but the owner even arranged for another man at his garage to follow us to Georgia in his trailer with all of our equipment.
“I’ve never lent anybody one of my cars before,” the garage owner told us just as we were about to hit the road again. “Don’t exactly know why I’m doing it now.”
But we knew—without a doubt.
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