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A Psychologist's Thoughts on Clinical Practice, Behavior, and Life

How My Prayer For a Gun Found an Invitation to Jesus

Once, while driving at night along a lonely, poorly lighted road in Mid-America, my car got caught on the divider as I made a turn. I left the car and stood staring, wondering what to do for this was before the era of cellphones.
A car containing four huge guys stopped opposite me. As one of them left his car and approached, I immediately regretted leaving my pistol at home.
"Do you have a problem?" the man asked.
"My car's stuck on the divider," I replied.
He studied the car as if to confirm my statement, and then returned to his. There, he briefly huddled with his comrades before all walked slowly toward me. Upon reaching my car, each chose a corner of the car, lifting it off the divider and back onto the road. I felt immensely grateful and reached for my wallet.
"Let me pay you," I said, excitedly.
"No. There's a revival meeting at the City Center tomorrow night. Come," he said, softly.
Then, without another word, my four angels returned to their car and drove back into the night.
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