A Voice in the Night Pull over at the next gas station! Jesus spoke to my mind very clearly. “I don’t need gasoline,” I argued. “Besides, the gas will be cheaper in Stuttgart. I’ll be there soon.” Tankstelle, 3 km. The sign announcing the next highway service station flashed by. Pull over at the next gas station! “But Lord, I’m tired and it’s already 3 am. I’ve got to get home. If I stop now, I’ll lose another 15 minutes and ...” Tankstelle, 1 km. Red tongues of flame erupted somewhere in the wreckage, illuminating what now resembled a battlefield. Like a father speaking to an errant child, Jesus spoke to me more firmly. You must stop! Early the previous morning I had driven from Stuttgart to Frankfurt, Germany, to attend a meeting. It had stretched late into the evening, and it was almost midnight before I began the long drive home. I was exhausted! The exit sign came into view. Ausfahrt. I flipped on my turn signal and checked the mirrors. I was already in the slow lane and was on the tail end of a line of Dutch holiday makers heading for the Black Forest. I lifted my foot from the accelerator, eased the VW van off the highway, and coasted to the gas pumps. As I opened the van door, the chilly night air was pierced by the sound of screeching rubber, followed by the sound of crushing metal, more screeching tires, and more crushing metal. Red tongues of flame erupted somewhere in the wreckage, illuminating what now resembled a battlefield. In a matter of seconds, a dozen vehicles had been mangled and strewn across the roadway. A gas station attendant alerted the police, and fire departments and paramedic squads rushed to the scene. Wailing sirens and flashing lights announced their arrival. I stood mouth agape, my senses reeling under the impact of what had happened. As the numbness gradually subsided, I was struck by a thought that sent shock waves through my system so strong that they caused me to jump off the ground. If I had not stopped, I would be right in the middle of that carnage! As I viewed the blackened, twisted metal, the words of the psalmist echoed in my ears. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.”1 Randy Langston (1949–2006) served as a volunteer with the Family International
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