The trip was going well. We were fifteen hours from home and only two and a half hours from our destination when we took a lunch break. I was in line to get our food when another traveler asked me if I owned the silver handicapped van in the parking lot. That was not unusual; people ask us questions about our van when they are seeking one.

But that was not this lady’s purpose in asking. Instead, she said, “We just saw someone smash into your van!”

I dropped the food on the table with Jerry and quickly said, “Someone hit our van. I am going out to see what’s happening.” As I walked out with my fellow traveler/reporter, I imagined a small dent or a sideswipe. I certainly was not prepared to see that our van was one of three seriously damaged by a fourth car.

Later, a friend who saw the pictures said, “Referring to this as a parking lot accident does not do it justice,” and she is right.

I don’t know that we’ll ever know exactly what happened. But a driver made a significant error that caused him to hit the first car, which we’re told “ricocheted” him into our van, pushing both the first car and ours over a couple of parking spots. In so doing, our van was pushed into a third car, damaging it.

The police were already there. It was immediately clear to me that our van would not be drivable and most likely would be totaled.

I searched for accessible van rentals nearby. I found one available, but only for a few days, not our full trip. They would not be able to deliver it to the rest stop. I learned they were an hour away from where we were.

I became overwhelmed trying to process what needed to happen. How would I pick up the van an hour away before they closed, and still have time to get back to where the van would be towed to and empty it of our personal possessions? Then return to the rest area to pick up Jerry and continue the drive. And what happens after the van had to be returned four days later, and we still had eleven days of travel ahead of us?

We’d texted a few people to be praying. Two friends replied they could come pick us up (with one’s accessible vehicle). That was just what we needed to hear. I told Jerry, “Call Paul and Kevin and tell them yes. We need someone to take care of us right now!”

Then came the question of what to do with all our belongings, including suitcases, conference materials, and hoyer lift! Our prayers were answered when the wonderful people of the Maryland House Rest Area allowed us to unload our van, to a corner of the eating area, to hold it all until our ride came. Then, going above and beyond, they made sure we stayed hydrated.

Kevin and Paul kept us updated on their arrival time. As it drew near, Rich Mullins’ song, My Deliverer ran through my mind. As the guys walked in the door, I said, “The cavalry has arrived.” I think that may have been the first time I took a deep breath since lunchtime.

What a joy amidst the trauma and dearth of phone calls with insurance and others, to settle into our friend’s home in PA and be loved and cared for by very good friends.

God answered our initial prayer about how to handle transportation for the remainder of this journey. My brother-in-law is driving the ministry van to us, expecting to arrive tomorrow. Once again, My Deliverer plays in my head.

I am grateful to the friends and family who are meeting our physical and temporal needs. They have truly been a deliverer to us. But even more, this experience reminds me that the story isn’t over. My Deliverer is still coming! At the exact right time, He will be back. And that is when my joy will be complete, because I will see Him as He really is (I John 3:2).

The next few months may be long. We can’t just buy a van off a car lot. The process of adapting it to Jerry’s needs requires significant time. I’m asking God to remind me through it all that our Deliverer is still at work, and His time is coming!