My Blizzard Miracle

     This week I called my friend Dale in Texas where her city is in a deep freeze. No answer. So I shot up a prayer, asking God to bounce a miracle down to her. Her situation reminded me of when my young girls and I were trapped in a blizzard. We were lumbering along a lonely Colorado road in our station wagon at twilight when we hit ice that spun us into the ditch next to a frozen lake.      Stuck.
     An SUV approached and stopped. A man in a parka hopped out and ran down to us while I cracked opened my window.
     My mouth dropped open. “Are you Frank…?”
     He grinned. “I’ll get in front of the car and rock it.”
     The car inched out of the snow bank and backed up the slope, and the man jogged easily back to his SUV and drove off.
      “Who was that?” my girls asked.
     I exhaled. “We had a world-class rescue. That was none other than Frank Shorter. He launched America’s running craze when he won the Olympic gold medal for the marathon and the silver four years later.”
     Some may call this a coincidence that Shorter arrived when I needed help, but I think, Who made the incident “co?”
     So when I shoot up a prayer for Dale, I’m asking God to send a miracle her way, perhaps even before she gets an S.O.S. off our lips.
     I'm reminded that I scratch my head about unanswered prayers, but forget the “unprayed answers” that come my way.
​     Have you had any?