Friday, July 30, 2004


I was on my way to a nearby city to take a dear friend out to lunch, tooling along on the Interstate, when something unusual caught my eye.


It was bouncing crazily from the eastbound lanes across the wide grass median, wobbling so much between bounces that its path was unpredictable.

Should I slam on the accelerator? Or the brake? I couldn’t tell, so I just steered toward the shoulder . . . and the big old thing whizzed diagonally about a car-length behind me, bouncing down into the ditch by the side of the road.

My heart was bouncing right along with it.

The tire was as tall as I am. I’m sure it would have been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad outcome, had it hit my car, even though I drive a big Battlestar Galactica.

In the rear-view mirror, I didn’t see a truck jack-knifed or pulled over. So I figure the tire must have been cargo, not attached to a vehicle, and it must have slipped off somehow.

At least it gave me some one-liners to tell my friend: I was nearly flattened by a tire. I was close to getting tired while driving on the Interstate. Survival: where the rubber meets the road.


Prayer request: A teenager in Springfield, Mo., named Justin has leg surgery this morning at 11. He is the surviving passenger in a motorcycle crash. He came to know Jesus as a result of being spared. However, the rod in his leg has broken and must be replaced. We pray for a successful outcome, for him to feel whole and well again physically, and for further spiritual growth. (Luke 8:50)

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