The Hand of God

By all accounts, religious wise I am a fence post sitter. However, that is to change. Going down Interstate 45 north into Huntsville. This motorcycle person was going to pass me. Now remember that I am going 70 miles an hour. He swings out into the outside lane. Then all hell breaks lose. I saw in the rear view mirror the front wheel of the motorcycle lock up. Next sight was the motorcycle going in the air, he is being thrown into the air, arms outstretched as though he is still holding onto the bike. I can't take my eyes off of the scene unfolding behind me. Thank the Lord that I didn't have anybody in front of me as I would have run into the back of them! My eyes would not move off that cyclist. His helmet flies off his head and over the back of the now flipping sideways bike, his shoes are going everywhere in the air. I quickly pulled over and began to back up on the emergency lane.

By all that is Holy, this guy was dead. I just knew it. Who flips off a bike at 70+ miles an hour, looses his helmet and lives to tell the story. He was not hurt. Oh, I imagine he was stiff as a board on Saturday. But he got up, patted himself down, put his shoes back on and got out his cell phone. How come that wasn't shattered?

Only the hand of God, laid on that interstate, could have protected that guy. It was more than just luck. It was God.