Roslyn Coelho shares her friend’s prayer experience!
Lisa. Pray for Lisa. It was the strangest thing, this urge that suddenly came over me. It was as if an actual voice had spoken, firm and commanding. Pray for Lisa? I prayed for my six-year-old daughter every night, just like I did for her brother and sister. But why now?
We were on the road, headed to my parents’ house for Christmas. Lisa was riding with my brother Bobby up ahead. I was following along in my car with my two other children.
Bobby was holding the speed limit, just like I had asked him to. Lisa turned to wave at me through the back window. Everything seemed fine.
Pray for Lisa. Now. The voice again, even more emphatic.
A chill ran through me. Lord, please watch over Lisa. Keep her out of harm’s way. Wrap your protecting arms tight around her.
Up ahead, Bobby slowed. I could see a semi-truck directly in front of him. Its trailer was weaving back and forth. Something was clearly wrong with it. The trailer bounced and then fishtailed. Bobby’s brake lights flared.
Then, to my horror, the trailer detached from the driver’s cab. “Lord, keep Lisa safe!” I cried.
Bobby swerved. Just enough to escape a collision with the runaway trailer.
Thank God, Lisa was safe. Thank God for the voice, I thought.
But I could only watch helplessly as the trailer slid into the other lane—smashing into an oncoming car.
Bobby and I both pulled over and rushed to the demolished vehicle. The backseat behind the driver was completely crushed. “Is everyone okay?” I gasped.
“I think so,” the driver said. He, his wife and their teenage daughter climbed out, shakily, but unharmed.
The man stared at the backseat and let out a deep breath. “We just stopped a couple of minutes ago and my daughter switched places with the Christmas gifts,” he told us. “If she had still been sitting there…” He didn’t have to say more.
The man then introduced himself and his wife.
“And what’s your name?” I asked their daughter.
“Lisa,” the girl replied.
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