In September 2023, I went to Popeye’s Chicken to pick up a Door Dash order. On the way out, my car wouldn’t start.

It was the battery. Not a big deal. Easy Fix.

I ran back inside to see if someone could help jumpstart my car. Luckily, an elderly man helped me, and seven minutes later, I was back on the road.

I figured the battery was bad, but I wanted to be for sure, so I ended my dash, and drove home. I found an old clunky battery charger with wheels in the garage, hooked it up, and let it charge while I did some gardening maintenance.

The cucumbers were popping, the tomatoes had just started producing, there was one watermelon (which was secretly being eaten by bugs on the inside) and some squash.

Thirty minutes turned into an hour, and I unhooked the battery charger.

And for the moment of truth, I put the key into the engine and started it up.

Or…didn’t. The battery was dead.

It was a little after 6:00 pm. The dinner rush was going strong, and the workhorse in me was like…

“Go into town, buy a new battery, and get back out there.”

I always gave in to the voice, but, at the last moment, decided against it.

I rarely take nights off. Like most Millennials, I’m slightly in the red (in terms of debt) and always working. Anyways, I went inside, watched some TV, ate a meal, and hung out with my golden retriever, who was like…

HELL YEAH DUDE! LET’S EXPLORE THE BACKYARD…AGAIN!

Around 7:45pm (a little after sundown), I shut off everything, jump-start the car, and pull out of the driveway and up to the edge of the lane. To the left: into town. To the right: toward the interstate. Both ways were clear, not a car in sight.

That said, if you turn left, you have to look right first because there is a hill with a steep dip. And 8 times out of 10 if you turn left without looking, bright lights will suddenly, and angrily, appear in the rearview mirror.

So I did. I looked right, and saw…a thin shadow walking frantically in my direction. I was a little nervous. Again, it was a little after sundown. That said, I stayed in the car, just to see what might happen.

It was a woman.

A heavily tattooed woman, very thin, wearing bright colorful leggings and a black jacket. It was like meeting The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo in real life. She was carrying a purse and a small backpack. She sped-walked past the windshield, and up to the driver side window.

My first thought was…this chick was homeless, looking for spare change or money. I say that because it happens a lot down town, however, as she approached, she was mumbling…

“Please, tell me you’re going left. Please, Jesus, tell me, you’re going left. Please, Jesus, tell me, you’re going left.”

And I’ll be honest, a part of me, the fight or flight side was like “say you’re going right, say you’re going right.”

Instead, I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Please, tell me you’re going left. Please Jesus, tell me you’re going left.”

“What’s wrong? Are you lost?”

She took a breath, said she had been walking for hours and that her friend’s house was four or five more miles down the road. But before I could answer, she started repeating…

“Please, Jesus, say yes, please Jesus, say yes….”

And as someone who has done years of rideshare, I offered to clean out the back seat for her, but she said the front seat was fine, then proceeded to say…

“Thank you Jesus, in Heaven…thank you, Jesus, in Heaven…thank you…”

Having seen this movie many times before, I was concerned on two fronts. One: who is she? And is she in danger? Two: Did I just unknowingly involve myself in some kind of wild escape plan? So…I pulled out, picked up speed, then asked, “Are you in trouble?”

“I’m not in trouble, no.”

I still wasn’t convinced. “You sure, everything’s okay?”

“Yes, everything’s okay, I promise.”

Four minutes later, she points me to a street that led into a small suburban neighborhood, and two minutes later, I pulled up to the curb. She opens the door and sets her belongings on the curb, then…climbs back in, places both knees in the seat, and leans over the console to give me…the most grateful hug I think I’ve ever experienced.

No joke, for a split second, I thought…“are we about to make out?”

But no, it was…the most gentle, grateful bear hug/face cradle from a complete stranger I’ve ever felt. One palm took my right cheek, the other took my shoulder, and her cheek pressed into mine. Five seconds later, or however long it was, she whispers “thank you,” kisses me on the cheek, then disappears into the dark driveway of the home.

Don’t even know her name.

And to think…if I would’ve left five minutes earlier…or five minutes later…our paths would’ve never crossed. We always pray for others to be a blessing to us, to give us a financial break or reward us with a miraculous opportunity, but sometimes…we are meant to be someone else’s blessing.

Moments like that make it hard to believe life is random.

These little unexplainable, chaotically beautiful moments always feel like a reminder that life isn’t what we think it is.