My son and I were coming back from an orchestra rehearsal that had finished late. The sky was clear and full of stars, the road was dry, and once we left town, there were no other cars on the road so the driving was easy and uneventful. Suddenly, the car engine began racing, speeding up no matter what I did. I changed to braking with my left foot, lifting up on the gas pedal to see if it was stuck or if there was something under it. There wasn't; the pedal was free and clear but the car kept speeding up.
By now, we were heading down the lone steep hill on the 30 mile trip. I was getting frantic because I knew that at the bottom of the hill was a concrete bridge over a riverbed that was dry and rocky. I could smell the brakes getting warm and yet the needle on the tachometer kept rising into the red. The brakes were not slowing the car down at all and I was afraid of burning them out. I finally remembered something I had read and turned the ignition key off and put the car in neutral. Only then was I able to stop the car and pulled off to the side.
I was glad we were safe but it was late, we were miles from a homestead, and I didn't dare start the car again. I opened the hood but neither of us knew enough about cars to even begin to know where to look much less how to fix the problem if we found it. I was trying very hard not to shake or cry or add to my son's fright but I had no idea of what to do next. (This was before we had cell phones.)
Just then a pickup coming from the other direction pulled up and a man got out and came over. He asked what the problem was and I told me. He went to his truck and got a flashlight and a toolbox. After a few minutes of looking and digging, he said that the chain on the cruise control had gotten caught but he had unhooked it and disabled the cruise so it couldn't happen again.
He said it was safe for me to drive home but he could see that I was still very shaken and nervous so he said he would follow me to make sure we got home safely. I got in the car, he turned around and followed me the nearly 20 miles home. When we got to the turn off of main street, he pulled over, did a u-turn and went back in his original direction. He hadn't given me his name and refused anything but my thanks. I never found out who he was but I have always been grateful not only for fixing the car but also for caring enough to follow me so that I felt safe enough to drive home.
An ancient faithful practice is one of doing acts of kindness, of being a blessing to someone; in Hebrew it is called a mitzvah. One of the disciplines of a faithful life is to seek out chances to do these acts of kindness for others especially when we are not asked and when they can be done anonymously. It is a way of turning life on its head from seeking what we need and want to seeking ways to help others.
Many times, Jesus says that those who follow him will be known by how we love each other. (John 13:34-35) Sometimes showing Christ-like love happens in big acts, witnessed by many people and requiring courage and strength. I think of people like Bishop Desmond Tutu and Ben Larsen, or those who work for Lutheran World Relief. But Christ's love also happens in small acts of kindness that can become part of our daily lives as we interact with all the people around us. Each act of kindness is a witness to the love that we have first received from Jesus Christ, nourishes our own faith and can be a blessing into the future. The man who stopped to help us may never know but I thank God for him every time I remember his help. Read Ephesians 4:31-5:2.
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