At the end of May, my boyfriend rented a car and drove me to NJ for my 2 month mission's trip at The Boardwalk Chapel.
I remember being half awake, and looking out at the side mirror and thinking, “The car is red.” It was a random acknowledgment of color, like my brain usually likes to do – just an, 'oh, that's nice' type of reaction... But it triggered a memory...
Back in the Winter, my best friend, Faith, and I went to a conference at Calvin College on the Holy Spirit, Spiritual Gifts, and the power of prayer. It was very encouraging and helped me continue the learning process to pray boldly, with joy, to a Father-God who loves me. As we learned about different things, we'd often be told to break up into groups for prayer.
Usually when this would happen, I'd look around and go to the people I felt led to be with. Though I was in a room full of unfamiliar people, I went wherever my first instinct was. Sometimes Faith headed in my same direction and we ended up with the same people – sometimes we didn't... This time, I went up to two ladies about my grandmother's age, we sat together, they laid hands on me, and we prayed. It was a powerful time of prayer for some people and situations in my life, but with what seemed like one odd, unknown bit: One of the ladies asked, “Is your car red?”
I told her no, my car is not red.
She nodded, and explained she had a mental image of a red car...They went back to praying for about a minute, before she said again, “What color is your car?”
I told her,”My car is silver... My dad's vehicle is red, but it's a van.”
“I just really feel like I need to pray about a red car.”
So she prayed for my car. She prayed about this "red car". She prayed about my dad's red van. She prayed about safety on the road for me, my family, and that God would protect us.
It's always good to pray for protection, and I took that prayer as it seemed then – just another interesting part of that conference.
Triggered in my half-awake state by the color, I remembered that story and told it to Jimmy as we drove. He agreed that it was an interesting story, and we continued talking about prayer and such.
Several hours later, at about 9:30 at night as we drove down the highway, a vehicle drifted into our lane and side-swiped our red car, and we veered off to the side of the highway. The first thing I remember saying as we lurched to a stop was, “Thank God!”... We hadn't hit the guard rail. We hadn't been physically hurt – not even bruised by the seat belts... And suddenly, my recounting of the story from the afternoon came back, and I knew... This is what she had prayed about. We were safe in our red car. God had answered her faithful prayer, that none of us at the time understood.
The world would tell you that this was a coincidence. I would tell you that I saw God answering prayer that He had given us to pray.
God speaks. He is not silent. He loves to remind us of how He watches over us, always... Even when we don't understand.