Chance encounter is cause for thankfulness

I was counting the miles as the freeway stretched ahead. Without warning the dashboard “Check System” warning light had appeared, but my destination was still hours away.

“Maybe when I get to Yakima, there’ll be a service center roadside,” I said to myself as my eyes scanned the horizon, only to find disappointment as I passed through.

If this kept up, I’d be counting worry lines.

With a medical appointment in my sights on the west side of the state, my goal was to be over the Cascade Mountains and into Seattle before the heaviest traffic hit on Interstate 5. Already a storm was brewing — and so was my anxiety. The last thing I wanted as I traveled alone was to spend time off the highway searching for assistance in a deluge.

As the miles flew by, I looked more closely at the flashing reminder that nagged me. Along with the bold words that nearly shouted, a small orange icon signaled simultaneously.

“Hmmm … it may be the tire pressure,” I thought as I considered my options and fretted that it could be something more critical than not enough air in my tires.

While I drove the lonely expanse through barren ridges leading across Manastash Pass, I breathed a casual prayer. It was nothing that would send angels into ecstatic hallelujahs at my prose, just a shout out to God that I would sure appreciate some timely help.

It’s a habit I have — to bring my concerns to him conversationally, things that some folks might think weren’t big enough or might scoff at the idea that God cares.

I knew full well I had roadside service if worse came to worse, but over the mountainous landscape my cell service was undependable. Get caught at the bottom of one of the ravines, and I’d be at the mercy of someone driving by. Besides, time was of the essence.

Dark clouds gathered in the distance as I drove. If only I could be far beyond Snoqualmie Pass before weather conditions deteriorated.

“I’ve only a few miles left to Ellensburg,” I sighed with relief as the first drops of rain pelted the windshield, the verdant valley dotted with homes coming into view.

I checked the gas gauge. Half empty. It’d be best to stop in first at a gas station, customarily what my husband and I would do when we’re going to Seattle. But just as I started to turn in, I as quickly changed my mind — something that surprised me.

“What am I doing!” I said to myself. “If I buy coffee first, it’ll cool off while I’m filling the tank and looking for air.”

But within a minute or less, the familiar Starbucks sign waved me in. A quick walk around my car in the parking lot didn’t reveal a problem. I’d search the Internet for a local service center while I waited for my drink.

Opening and then holding the coffee shop door in case someone was behind me, I paused and glanced over my shoulder. About six feet away a woman approached, her head bent against the wind. When our eyes met, there was instant recognition.

“What are you doing here?” I exclaimed as the woman from a Tri-Cities shop I frequent came near.

Her reply came quickly as we stepped toward the coffee line. She was on her way to Olympia.

“It’s only my second time to the west side,” she said in her lilting English accent, explaining the last time she’d been traveling with a friend. And then she added, “We blew a tire just before Ellensburg and drove on it, not realizing it was flat.”

I looked at her in disbelief, my worries suddenly dissipating. “Where did you get it fixed?”

“Oh, just down the street about a mile,” the brunette said, describing the business. “You can’t miss it on the right hand side.”

In less than 15 minutes, I was heading up the mountain, latte in hand and my car problem solved. And even though there were storm clouds threatening, I was no longer counting the miles. Now I was counting my blessings.

This story was originally published November 7, 2015 at 4:52 PM with the headline "Chance encounter is cause for thankfulness."