This is a story of a bad situation I got myself into a few years ago and how God answered prayers and sent people to come to my rescue. It happened in the middle of winter, and I'm often reminded of it when the temps start to drop:
It was a bitterly cold January day--much like some of the days we've been experiencing here in Minnesota over the past few months: a biting, painful, merciless cold. I remember well driving up to the front door of our church building and deciding to let my children (2 and 9 months at the time) remain asleep in their carseats while I quickly ran inside to drop off some food containers for a church staff person. Since it was dangerously cold that day, I thought it would be best to leave my car running while I dashed inside so that the heater would stay on to keep my babies cozy. I grabbed my spare set of keys, hit the auto-lock button on my door, and slammed it shut. I raced inside the building, not liking to leave the kids alone, but at the same time, relieved that they were not being disturbed from their naps. My delivery items were deposited on the kitchen counter, and I dashed the few steps to the door and back out to my car. Mission accomplished, and my wee ones were still sleeping soundly. I grabbed the extra set of keys I had taken with me and fumbled with the lock . . . and fumbled some more . . . and then some more.
We've all had those sickening moments. The ones where the realization of something really awful settles on you like a bucket of sludge being poured over your head and making you want to sink underneath it. This was one of those moments for me. Peering into the back seat of my car at my sweet children, I realized they were trapped in there. What I had thought was a spare key for my car was actually not a key for my car at all ( I later learned that it was a key for my parents-in-law's van), and my only key was locked inside the car, still in the ignition, with my sleeping honeys.
The next half hour was somewhat of a blur. I had seen a repairman working on some wiring when I had run inside he church building earlier, so I went back to ask him if he had any skills breaking into cars. He looked at me suspiciously but was nice enough to come out and give it a try. Much to my dismay, his kind attempts to break into my car failed, and he suggested asking one of the custodians for help.
I went back in just as Jim, a former college acquaintance of my husband's and also a member of the church's custodial team, was walking by. When he ehard about my dilemna, he was more than willing to help out. He quickly went to get a coat hanger, which he said he'd been saving for just such an ememrgency as this, and ran out to work a trick to get my car door open. As I said before, this was a bitterly cold January day--the kind of cold that will numb your finges within seconds. The high temp that day was something insane, like a whole whoppin' 5 degrees. And there worked Jim, minute after minute after minute, trying everything he could think of to get that door open. At one point a small group of church staff gathered around, offering suggestions. Someone mentioned that sometimes the fire department would help out in such situations, so I gave them a call (thankfully, I did have my cell phone on me). To add embarassment to despair, a huge fire truck came roaring into the parking lot minutes after my call--lights, sirens, and all! With all the noise and flashiness, I was really hoping they would have just the right tool to pry open my car, but to my dismay, they informed me that the only thing they could do was bust out my window. Hmmm . . . no window . . . single-digit temps . . . two babes in the back seat . . . that really didn't seem like the best option. So, I said no thank-you, asked them if the church would be billed for their visit (which they said it wouldn't), and waved good-bye. I tried calling a locksmith, but was told that it could be up to an hour before they showed up and that even if the door was pried open before they arrived, I'd still have to pay their fee. I knew that Chris, who was working only 10 minutes away, would probably be out of his meeting and able to get to us with his spare keys (I had been frantically leaving him voice messages) before the locksmith did, so this didn't seem like a reasonable option either.
By now, the kids were starting to wake up, staring in a sleepy daze at the strange faces peering in the windowsat them. Jim persisted. I'm guessing he had been working for half an hour and had just said that he had done about everything he could think of when the Executive Pastor, Sam Crabtree, drove up. On his way into the building, he stopped to get the scoop on what had happened, sensed the forboding mood that was descending, and asked the few people standing around to gather for prayer. It was a short prayer--a simple petition for God's help in our situation. He said Amen and went inside. Within a few short minutes, my car dor was open! (And yes, all windows were still intact!) Right after Pastor Sam's prayer, Jim had the idea to stick the coat hanger into the window, under the rubber lining betwen the window and door frame--and this time, instead of trying to catch the pop-up lock (which was shaped in a way to make it very difficult to hook onto), he caught the inside door handle, which automatically pops the lock up and opens the door. In answer to prayer, God had mercifully revealed the solution to our dilemna, just as Pastor Sam had asked. When we were at the end of all our ideas, God simply showed that He's there listening, loving, orchestrating, and helping.
On Wednesday nights, I work in my church's Preschool classroom. One of the other teachers in the room will often have the kids shout out, "Yeah God!" when the lesson is about something great God has done. And when I think about that cold January day, I too want to shout out, "Yeah God!" He used my foolishness to show His greatness and kindness.
On a humorous side-note, since this episode, Chris has cleverly nick-named his old college buddy "Slim Jim." Quite appropriate, wouldn't you say?
