This is a story that, at first, you may not believe, but it’s true nonetheless. My husband and I were in New Zealand visiting his parents this particular summer. Often we would gather ourselves in their small, but comfortable Ford Anglia car. If you were over six feet in height, you would not enjoy the ride.
I remember well our get-away that afternoon. It was a very warm day and we were sailing along nicely, with all the windows in the down position. In those days it was referred to as “natural air conditioning.” We felt like we were the only ones on the road; it was that lonely. It didn’t matter, we were enjoying our touring in the country that afternoon.
Suddenly the car began making noises that didn’t appeal to any of the passengers. It was sputtering as if we were running out of gas. In a quick glance at the gauges, the tank had plenty of fuel to take us back home, so this wasn’t the problem.
My husband is very handy in car repair, especially if he has You-Tube at his fingertips. But, alas, no computers were available. GPS (global positioning systems hadn’t been discovered back then), so even that “talking directional woman” couldn’t give us our location. We didn’t need anyone to tell us we were in the boon docks, with no one even passing by in another car and something with the mechanics of the car was very wrong; so wrong, that the car just stopped. My husband steered over to the side of the road and began the search and rescue approach to see if he could determine the cause.
I can’t remember the exact cause or location, perhaps the radiator? Whatever it was, he removed it from the front end of the car. He then positioned himself on the side of the road with instructions to his three soon-to-be-alone-in-this-car passengers to stay put, and he would hitch hike to the next town. We had no idea how far the town would be, but we sat like orphans, lonely but hopeful.
For a while there was silence in the car. None of us had any ideas or answers to our automotive-dilemma. My father-in-law and mother-in-law were in the back seat, and I was up front in this wee little automobile.
While we were discussing our dilemma and our helpless state, an incredible idea blossomed from my heart. Dad, the professional musician in the back seat just “happened” to have his clarinet with him. I was reminded that when you’re in trouble and belong to the Lord, call on Him, and He is a very present help in trouble. The more we thought about this, the more determined we got about sharing our cares with the Lord. We also decided that it would be a great thing to just sing some praise choruses, after all, we had our own professional musician who knew the music by heart to accompany us.
So there, in the tiny little car we told the Lord about our need of a car repair, and the provision of just the right part to be available in whatever little town my husband had been driven to. Then, we began to sing. We must have sung five or six choruses from our choral repertoire.
As we energetically sang we were beginning to get quite warm due to the rising temperature in this remote little area of the country. Over an hour had passed and no sign of the fix-it man. We explored our memories for more choruses, and continued to sing and remind ourselves that God knew our exact location and predicament. We were, as the Bible encourages us to, to encourage yourself in the Lord. We were doing that, with all our heart and lungs.
All during the time this praise session of choruses and music meandered out the car windows, not one other car went past us. Then it happened, and we were astonished at its size. It was a double semi-truck. You don’t see them very often, but when you do, you are struck at their size, particularly their length. If anything, it would stir up some air as it passed by our car.
We were surprised that as this HUGE double-semi (did I say double) approached our car, it began to slow down. What took our breath away is that he actually stopped this rig and pulled to the side of the road.
He was quick to inquire about our situation and we responded with our “we don’t know what’s wrong, but we hoped that the help who left would soon be returning with the needed part.”
There was really nothing this truck driver could do for us, but we sure appreciated his stopping and caring attitude. After the introduction he said he had a treat for us. His question to this “group in the car” was, “do you like ice cream?” That’s like asking a rabbit if it likes carrots.
We couldn’t get a YES out quick enough. He went to the rear of his semi and opened the doors. Inside this double semi was a truck load of ICE CREAM…..all the flavors in the world you could think of. His second question was, “name your favorite flavor.”
He pulled out a pint of our “requested favorites” and handed it to each of us…with spoons too. Did we give thanks to the Lord, or what !!!!
We were thrilled out of our socks, and the truck driver was so pleased to have helped us. We were gobbling down our ice cream, eating like mad due to the heat, but a thought came to my mind. My husband would never believe this double semi-truck full of ice cream story. The only way he would believe is if he could SEE & TASTE the evidence.
Before the ice cream man, I mean the truck driver, could close the semi doors, I inquired if he had the flavor Rocky Road in his ice cream inventory. HE DID. And he gave me a pint of it. I ran over to our over-heated car and wrapped the package in newspaper and placed it in the cooler, hoping it would hold together until my husband returned.
The semi hadn’t been gone more than ten minutes when the fix-it man arrived. We had just finished our pint each of ice cream, so all the evidence of the Lord’s help was consumed, but thanks to coolers, my husband was about to hear the story of his life.
The repair only took him a couple minutes and we were all standing around, anxiously awaiting the opportunity to share our “show and tell” event. I wasted no time in telling the story and hurried to the cooler before the “show part” was disappearing into a messy liquid.
You can guess his reaction…..No, I don’t believe you about the big ice cream truck. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Well, the proof is in the pudding, or shall I say, ice cream.
We pulled out and unwrapped the pint of Rocky Road (his favorite) and handed him a spoon. His eyes were like golf balls and full of belief once his taste buds began to enjoy this luscious treat…..all provided by the Lord because we prayed, we praised,and God responded.
To date, I’ve never seen another double-semi truck filled with ice cream. But I must close with this wee chuckle. Every once in a while a tiny 4-wheel ice cream truck comes by our neighborhood in the summer with its little gingle inviting prospective customers to buy their ice cream, and my thoughts and heart goes back to the semi-truck loaded with frozen desserts. I just smile with delight at God’s goodness and sweetness to us that day.
Cups of Cold Water 