Proof The Bible Is True

I tapped my pen against the kitchen table and stared at my to-do list. Plan side dishes, get the turkey, tidy up the house—Thanksgiving was two days away, and there was so much to get done.

 

But that wasn’t why I was anxious. My son, Bill, was driving home from school for Thanksgiving break. His first visit since he’d gone off to college. And he was late.

 

The phone rang. My husband, William, answered it. As he paced around the kitchen with the receiver to his ear, I heard snippets of his conversation: Car trouble. Transmission. Tow truck. I looked up. Who was he talking to?

 

“How far are you from home?” William asked.

 

Bill! Oh, no, is he in trouble? I moved closer to my husband so I could find out what was going on. I could just hear Bill’s voice through the receiver. “I’m stranded at some service station in Macon, Georgia.”

 

Macon was hundreds of miles away, and who knew if we could trust the service at this station. I’d been looking forward to Thanksgiving ever since I watched Bill pull out of the driveway three months earlier to start his freshman year.

 

What if he couldn’t get the car fixed in time? What if the mechanics were untrustworthy? What if Bill couldn’t get home? God, this is an emergency! Please take care of Bill, I prayed.

 

Read More: Destination: Home