February 9, 2015

Story

Do you believe in angels? I believe one day it will be revealed to us the multitude of times that heavenly representatives delivered us from harm and we never knew about the imminent danger, or how an angel interceded on our behalf.

Angels are the subject of numerous books, articles, and groups of study. My favorite angel story involves someone I know personally.

Nice Day for a Run

Jim Abt is a runner. He runs marathons and ultramarathons. He lives in Cleburne, Texas, and is a Christian. His wife, Donnave, now retired, was a flight attendant for Delta Airlines. Jim and Donnave have two boys, Joel and Ryan.

One day when the Abts lived in Temple, Jim went for a training run along a new route. Runners like the variety and challenge of different routes. But the first time over a route is always a little tentative because runners are unsure about two things: hills and dogs.

Hills are an important part of a runner’s training. Going up hills builds leg strength and confidence. Going down hills is their reward for going up.

On the other hand, dogs are to be avoided. Hills are tough, but they don’t bite. Runners have to know the dogs on their routes, which ones are confined to yards, which ones are friendly, and which ones to watch out for—even to the point of changing course or eliminating that route altogether.

Once a runner (or walker or biker) knows where the hills and dogs are, a route can be selected for that day’s workout.

On the Loose

This time, as Jim was pounding along a country road in the middle of nowhere outside Temple, he had just passed an intersection with a farmhouse on his right when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. A large dog was bounding across the field, quickly covering the distance between them.

Experienced runners know that most dogs are no bigger than their bark, and mostly just want to sound off. Experienced runners also know to stand still when confronted by a mean dog, and to yell real loud at the dog. Intimidated, the dog usually backs down.

But not this time. This dog didn’t bark like most loudmouths that chase cars and nip at runners’ feet. This dog announced its intention with a soft, steady growl. And something else gave Jim cause for concern once the dog reached the road: it began circling, each time getting closer and closer to Jim.

Jim yelled at the dog, to no avail. Jim shouted at the dog, but it kept coming.

To the right, up the dirt drive, was a farmhouse. At that moment, as the dog was closing in, the front door opened, and a woman, alerted by Jim’s shouts, appeared. With alarm in her voice she yelled, “Don’t move!”

Frozen in his tracks but thankful for the woman’s presence, Jim pleaded for her to call the dog. “I can’t,” she replied. “He answers only to my husband, and he’s not home.”

At this point Jim’s eyes focused on the dog’s glistening white teeth. Jim’s ears heard only the low, muffled rumble from deep in the animal’s throat. In his mind Jim prayed, Please, God, help me.

His Master’s Voice

The dog, no longer circling but inching closer, crouched, back legs bent in preparation to spring. Just then Jim heard a noise behind him. An old rusty blue pickup had stopped in the intersection. The driver, his gimme cap askew, was hanging halfway out the window.

“I have no idea who that man was.”

“Get in here, Bubba,” the man said.

With that, the dog sprang past Jim, and with two bounds leaped into the back of the pickup. Down the road it went, and as quickly as the pickup appeared, it was gone.

Shaking, startled, adrenaline pumping, Jim turned and retraced his route back home, getting back faster than he had gone out.

Later, showered, calm, and curious about how many miles he had run, Jim drove back to the farmhouse. He wanted to thank the farmer for his fortunate timing.

Parking on the dirt drive, Jim saw Bubba out in the fenced back field. Approaching the house, he passed a “Beware of Bubba” warning sign on the fence.

“Hello,” said Jim, as the woman opened the door in response to his knock. “I’m the runner your dog confronted this morning. I want to thank your husband for his help.”

“You know,” the woman replied in amazement, “I saw that happen. Bubba never goes with strangers. I’ve never seen that pickup around here before, and I have no idea who that man was.”

Jim does. 

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