We were going the wrong way but we didn’t know it yet.
What began as a shopping trip ended with an angelic intervention.
Or at least that’s my explanation of our afternoon ride.
A detailed map of the Krasnodar, Russia public transportation system was of no help to us as our eyes alternated between looking at the map and looking out the windows.
Silently praying that a familiar landmark would show us that we were on the right track; my thoughts drifted.
Back home in California we would go for drives on the freeways. If we missed an exit I would tell my little ones that we were on an adventure.
Years ago that was my way of keeping my kids and myself calm as I retraced our path to get back on track.
As they grew older ‘adventure’ became a code word for being lost.
And I was just about to admit to Spencer that we were lost.
A few gentle taps my shoulder made me look up from the map.
Glancing his direction I noticed an outstretched hand gesturing to the map.
I pass it to him.
He looked it over, then looked up at me, “where are you going?”
“The bus terminal near Turgeneva and Gagarina”
Nodding once while politely handing back the map, “You must get off the bus right now, go back 2 blocks and wait for the number 6 bus going the other way.”
Suddenly, the bus came to a halt.
A woman’s voice cried out that we needed to go across to the other side of the street.
Time appeared to stand still as they debated.
Finally, repeating the instructions as I understood them the entire bus, it seemed, yelled out their agreement.
In tandem we jumped up, gathered our belongings, thanked everyone, and exited the bus.
Racing across the street in silence, carefully counting each block, we arrived just in time to catch the correct bus.
Once Spencer and I had a chance to catch our breath we looked at one another to check our reality.
My eyes were glazed over and my heart was still racing. “They were all speaking Russian, right?”
“Yeah, but, I understood it in English.”
Grateful that my teenager heard what I heard I exhaled and acknowledge with relief, “Me too.”
We made it home safely within a half hour but that miraculous moment has remained with me to this day.
We’d been in Russia a few weeks at that point. We had no knowledge of numbers or directions. And yet, as we listened to a language we didn’t fully understand, the Holy Spirit translated those words as they hit our ears.
I’m grateful that God’s power is not limited by language.
As I reflect on this memory it serves as a reminder that He’s still there.
How has He been there for you?
Write down those moments and give God praise for His unfailing love that reaches every corner of the world!
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