I was not a fighter…well, except with my little brother. So when I heard that Anita (her name was changed just in case she reads my blog) was going to beat me up when we arrived back at school from the away football game, I was scared to death! It wasn’t that I COULDN’T fight, it was that a fight with someone from school meant that someone didn’t like me. Inconceivable!
As the bus drew nearer to school, I remember searching my brain trying to remember what on earth I had done to make her mad. She wasn’t a close friend or anyone that I ever hung out with. I don’t really remember even noticing her too much. But I sure noticed when the word came that she was going to pound me.
Thankfully, I was at the front of the bus. I started forming my escape plan. My best friend’s mother was picking us up that night. I immediately (in the words of one of my favorite comedians – Mark Lowry) “began fasting and praying. ‘Oh God, please! I’ll go to Africa. I’ll wear bermuda shorts. I’ll marry a man with a monkey on his head.’” (only Mark Lowry said he’d marry a “woman.”) Please God, just let her mom BE there when we arrive.
I was at the front of the bus and Anita was at the back. I had a few friends in between who would slow things down. I only needed two minutes.
In my 47 years, I’m finally realizing that God does care about the “small” things as well as the big ones. I’m not sure why he didn’t want me to be pounded that night, because he doesn’t always say “yes” to my prayers. I do know that the bus pulled into the parking lot and stopped right in front of the car that was the answer to my prayer. I stepped off that bus and into my own personal sanctuary.
Whatever she was mad about that night never resurfaced.
If this were a Paul Harvey story, she would now be my sister-in-law or something crazy like that. Sorry to disappoint – Anita and I went back to the way we were before…except that she left a vivid mark in MY memory bank.