I glanced in the rear view mirror and there he was, pulling up behind me in a red sports car.
It was late summer and my one year stint working as a messenger in a law office was just about up. I had taken the messenger job while I applied to law schools, just to make sure law was what I wanted to do.
I had dreamed of being Perry Mason when I was a child. I loved how he uncovered the TRUTH by the end of every weekly episode. I loved how everything worked out fairly and squarely and dramatically. But my Perry Mason dreams were deflated that year. Immersed in that firm – in the day to day nuts and bolts of the law – it seemed that the legal practice was much more about posturing, winning at all costs and making money, money, money than it was about uncovering the truth.
I suppose I could have gone the route of public interest law or public defender or non-profit, but still I would be operating within a system that would make my head explode.
So I said no to the schools that accepted me and took a job as a social worker instead.
But before I left the firm, on that late summer late afternoon, something unforgettable happened.
One of the partners had asked me to drive to Lansing to file a motion with the Michigan Supreme Court. “You can take my car,” he said. “But you might want to get the oil changed first.”
Get your own stinking oil changed, I thought, sweetly. I was barely going to have enough time to get there before it closed as it was.
I took his car, made the hour and a half drive, stood in a long line, filed the motion just-in-time and headed back to the firm.
I was on a fairly deserted stretch of expressway, about an hour from the office, when the engine suddenly seized. I coasted to the shoulder and stopped.
Glancing in the rearview mirror I saw a red sports car pull up immediately behind me. Ordinarily I would have been very wary but, oddly, I wasn’t.
We chatted as the very pleasant-looking owner of the sports car drove me to the nearest exit with a service station – about 20 minutes away. My knight in shining armor just happened to be an attorney. He told me his name and the name of the firm for which he worked. He said he specialized in environmental law so I told him about an environmental case one of our attorneys was working on. He gave me a piece of information to relay to that attorney, saying it might be useful to his case.
When we arrived at the service station, Mr. Handsome with the warm, winsome smile arranged to have a tow truck pick up the car. “You’ll be safe now,” he said as he drove away. There was something so likable about him that I was a little sad to see him go.
The next day I relayed the info he had given me to Jerry – the attorney on the environmental case.
About two or three weeks later Jerry approached me and asked, “What was the name of that attorney again?” I told him. Then he asked, “Are you sure you had the right firm?” I rummaged through my purse: “Yep, I wrote it down right here. Why?”
Jerry said that piece of information was about to win his case. So he called that firm to thank that attorney and was told that there was no one in that firm by that name.
This is why I am CONVINCED that angels sometimes drive red sports cars:
- The complete peace and lack of fear I felt in the company of the mystery attorney.
- The perfect piece of information he gave at the perfect time.
- Jerry was representing a Christian couple who lived in Ohio.
I love how God kills two birds with one stone – looking out for a couple of His kids in Ohio by bringing an angel to the rescue of one of His kids in Michigan – using an attorney who NEVER gets his oil changed.
Three birds, actually, when you consider the impression He no doubt made on Jerry.
You gotta’ love Him.