Jumper Cables and a Missing Tank Fitting

The Jumper Cables

Early on in my driving career (all of three years ago) I found myself holed up in a small rest area near Hugo, Colorado, with another driver whose truck had broken down. The other driver asked me if I had jumper cables. I did not, but that they would be a welcome addition to my side box and added them when I returned home.

This two week cycle began with a trip to Los Angeles. This is unusual. I only go to California two or three times a year. The rest of the time I stay in the eastern half of the United States.

On the way back from Los Angeles, circumstances had me in Eloy, Arizona, south of Phoenix, fueling at the Pilot truckstop in the morning. Though it was morning, the desert heat was already substantial. I wanted to fuel and grab a badly needed shower. The fuel space next to me opened, and another tanker truck from my company pulled in. Great, I thought. I was not "feeling" sociable. I did not even smell sociable. Reluctantly, I turned to greet the driver.

It was a team. It was an inexperienced new team. They wanted to know if I knew where the fuse box is located. They were having electrical problems with the truck. No one was waiting behind us. I showed them the fuse box and checked the fuses for them. Then one of the drivers mentioned that the voltmeter was reading very low. Then one of the drivers tried to start the truck. The four batteries were dead. They were sitting ducks in the fuel island, facing a multi-hour wait calling the company, arranging, and waiting for roadside maintenance.

Because I was equipped with jumper cables, I whipped my truck forward, was able to turn the rig, came into the spot I had just vacated backwards (nose first) and got my cables out. In minutes they were started.

The driver started to thank me, and I stopped him. "You don't understand. Don't thank me. That you had another driver, from the same company, with jumper cables, next to you in the fuel island when your truck quit was not a coincidence. That simply does not happen in real life. Instead give thanks to God!"

The lead driver was moved to tears. He shared that he and his co-driver were Christians, that they began every day with prayer, and that how they were certain that God had put me there at that time. We prayed together and I then gave them the practical information of the location of the Petro truckstop eight miles up the road where my company has arrangements with the repair shop (the same truckstop I wrote about some weeks back with the chapel in it).

I think I was sent there that morning at that time.

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The Missing Tank Fitting

After returning from California, I was sent to drop a tank bound for Mexico in Laredo. From Laredo I was sent bobtail to Brownsville 200 miles away in order to pick up a dirty empty coming back from Mexico.

At the broker lot in Brownsville I saw something I had never seen before. The tankwagon returning from Mexico had had its outlet fitting stolen. When I walked around the back, there was an open pipe staring at me. State troopers will not allow you to drive down the road with an unwashed hazmat tank with an open outlet. I was stuck. It was 6:00 in the evening and it was extremely unlikely that my company could obtain the missing part before morning.

As always, it was time to ask, "Lord, why here? Why now?"

The broker yard was attended by a security guard and a representative of the broker. While I was communicating my problem with my company, there was a shift change of the broker representative. Once I determined that I was stuck for the evening, I thought it wise to walk over to the broker trailer and advise the broker's representative who had just come on duty that I would be their overnight guest.

The young man was sitting and reading. "What are you reading?" The Bible. He was reading the book of Samuel about David. His english was very bad, and my spanish is nearly non-existent, but for the next hour we had a delightful time of fellowship. I fetched my bible from the truck. As verses came to mind I would find the reference in my bible and then he would look them up in his bible. We then prayed for each other. I prayed in English. He prayed in Spanish.

I was able to gather that he was a new convert, that he had recently been released from prison, that he had a wife and child, that he attended a church in Brownsville, and that he loved to read the scriptures. He had been praying for a job and had started this job the day before.

I am convinced that God shut me down at that freight broker's yard at that time so that we might encourage each other in the Lord.

So much for that two week jaunt. Time would fail me to tell of God's small mercies in seeing that I traveled safely. I am home now for 4th of July weekend. Tomorrow (it is July 7 as I finish this post) it is back in the truck. I never like the part of getting back in the truck, but it is the job God has provided at this point in time.

If time permits I will write about the other time, the winter before last when the jumper cables served as a witnessing tool.