The scriptures portray a sovereign God who controls the universe and knows all. If our freewill choices go against His plans, the providence of God steps in. During my youth, I thought I avoided doom spawned from reckless decisions by running like a bat out of hell or hiding. Hindsight tells me God’s boundless providence likely intervened.
A well-known example of the providence of God is the story of Joseph in the book of Genesis (37:12-36). His jealous brothers ripped off his colorful coat, threw him into a cistern, and planned to kill him. His brother, Judah, convinced them to sell him as a slave instead. God’s providence unfurled as Joseph arose from slavery to a position of great power in Egypt. He eventually saved many people, including his family.
Skip forward thousands of years.
It’s 5:15 in the morning and not yet sunrise. I’m 16 years old and whipping along Nevada Avenue, a road that borders what locals called the white trash projects near where I lived. Some residents were good and kind, some were unsavory, and one proved to be a psychopathic killer.
A police car with two officers pulled up in front of me. “Where are you going, Miss?” One of them asked.
“The Sandwich Shop on East Market Street. I just got a job there.”
“That’s a few miles from here,” the other officer said. “We’ll give you a lift.”
“No thanks. I can walk. I don’t have to be there till 6:00.” I refused rides from strangers because I valued having an unmutilated body.
He climbed out and opened the rear door. “Get in. We’ll take you.”
“The human heart plans the way, but the LORD directs the steps.” (Proverbs 16:9)
With lights flashing, the patrol car careened through the city’s red lights going 75 mph in a 25 mph zone. Each swerve slid me across seat stains from a buffet of body fluids. Before I could be horrified, I found myself standing in front of the Sandwich Shop smelling yesterday’s salami and swatting mosquitoes as I waited for it to open.
The next day the Sandwich Shop’s other counter girl, jealous over one of my big tips, laughed as she squirted a half bottle of ketchup in my hair while I waited on a customer. I quit and got a job at the movie theater nearby.
I didn’t mind selling candy and popcorn at the theater’s concessions counter, but my assigned hours were in the afternoon until closing. Buses were no longer running after my shift.
So I walked home along the city’s well-lit main four lane road until turning onto the darker, creepier Nevada Avenue. Then I’d take side roads and arrive home at 11:00pm-unless a perv, drunk with hormones, crawled out of a hellhole and stalked me in his car.
They’d open the door, pat their dangly parts, and say something nauseating like, “Come on, honey, I’ll give you a sweet ride home.” I’d stroll behind a nearby house as if I lived there and hide behind a tree or a bush till they drove off. Allowing for perv time got me home at 11:15 pm.
“Rescue me, LORD, from my foes, for I seek refuge in you.” (Psalm 143:9)
Sometimes a gallant usher-known to be a slow learner-worked the same shift, so we’d hook up for the trek home. He’d express glee that “we were in show business together.” But when we reached Nevada, he’d quickly turn into the projects where he lived.
Then I’d sprint down Nevada as if the hands of Satan were about to snatch me. “God,” I’d plead, “help me run faster!” My faith mushroomed as darkness fueled my psychophobia and opened the gates of hell for sleazeballs.
“In all circumstances, hold faith as a shield, to quench all [the] flaming arrows of the evil one.” (Ephesians 6:16)
Nevada didn’t seem scary in the light of day. I had friends in the projects. During my elementary school years, my neighborhood ball playing buddies were on a little league team that practiced there. Their coach, Mr. D, and his wife, who I later played women’s softball with, lived there.
Mr. D had two sons. The older one, who already had a reputation of being a crazy, unpredictable hothead, would sometimes hang out at the ballfield. The younger one played on the team.
Mr. D would warn batters swinging at air, “If you can’t hit the ball, Nancy will play in your place!”
Of course, girls didn’t play on boys’ teams, but during practice, the coach sometimes let me and his psycho son bat. He probably pictured the ball as someone’s skull before smashing it over the outfielders’ heads.
After Mr. D’s feral son bit off someone’s ear in a bowling alley, he became known as Mad Dog. Most kids knew to stay away from him, but not my older brother, Mike.
“He beat the sh*t out of me once,” Mike told me. “I don’t even know why. He was &%# strong. I’m surprised he didn’t kill me!”
Mad Dog had a fireplug build with thick arms, chest, and neck. When I’d spot him strutting down Nevada towards me like a rabid pit bull, I’d duck into one of the three mom and pop stores along the road that were open during the day. At night, with nowhere to lie low, I’d feel evil in my bones.
But Mad Dog never jumped out of the shadows. Not for me.
“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not from you; it is the gift of God;” (Ephesians 2:8)
Tragically, on a night not too many years later, Mad Dog picked up two 16 year old girls on Nevada, one of them a nearby neighbor of mine. She ended up dead. Her friend survived.
According to past news accounts, the girls willingly accepted a ride from Mad Dog. They knew him and yet they still trusted the serpent! Based on the survivor’s testimony, he drove them to a remote road where they “just laughed, joked, and listened to the car radio.”
Mad Dog reportedly didn’t try to molest the girls and without apparent motivation, he told them, “I’m going to kill you.” He shot the survivor three times (two in the head) and my neighbor five times (three in the head) with a .22-caliber nine-shot revolver.
“Do not say, ‘I will repay evil!’ Wait for the Lord who will help you.” (Proverbs 20:22)
Mad Dog tried to plead not guilty by reason of insanity, but failed. He got life in prison on the charge of first-degree murder and another 1-15 year sentence on a charge of shooting with the intent to kill. He died in prison at 58 years old.
At night, when I raced down Nevada toward home, I thought Mad Dog- and other demonic monsters-were slithering through the shadows searching for prey. My reckless teenage soul had been bait for evil, but I believe God’s providence and grace decided otherwise.
Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God.
Philippians 4:6 NAB
Enter your email address below to receive new blogs in your inbox.
PLEASE SHARE
5 SECOND SMILES :) 