The Fall to Grace

I have an entertaining and silly book in my bathroom entitled These Aren't My Pants. In this book are a few hundred true stories about dumb criminals who get caught in the act because of something stupid they say or do (besides committing a crime in the first place). The title of the book, for those whose curiosity is just itching, comes from the common response dumb criminals make when an officer pats them down, finds illegal substances or a weapon, and asks why the items were found in their pants.

What in the world could this secular book have to do with the God and the title of this entry: The Fall to Grace? Well, let me share with you the story I read last night by the same title:

Sgt. Johnny Cooley was running radar on the interstate outside Birmingham, Alabama, one night when he witnessed a bona fide traffic miracle.

The street was slick from a rain that had just ended, and the pace of the traffic was again picking up. an eighteen-wheeler came barreling around a curve, when a car suddenly switched lanes directly into the truck's path. The truck driver hit the brakes and began to hydroplane across the lanes, out of control. The cab of the truck hit the railing at full speed and the trailer followed, disappearing over the edge of an overpass.

Cooley knew there was a basketball court below, and chances were real good that a pickup game was in progress. Cooley quickly radioed in for paramedics and backup. When he got to the twisted, crushed semi, his worst fears surfaced, although it appeared that the basketball players had escaped: they were all busy looting the trailer of its beer and wine haul. When they saw Cooley, they made a fast break toward the shadows.

Sergeant Cooley sighed as he stepped out of his cruiser for the worst part of his job--visually confirming the traffic fatality. He stepped up on what was left of the cab's running board and peered into a small opening that used to be the driver's side window. He gritted his teeth and swallowed hard. But when he looked in, he couldn't believe his eyes. There was a woman lying comfortably stretched out on the seat, reading a book.

"Ma'am? Are you okay?"

The woman calmly closed her book and smiled, "Oh, I'm fine, thank you."

Cooley could not believe that she had survived the crash, much less the sixty-five-foot drop.

"Were you driving the rig, ma'am?"

She smiled again, "Yes, sir, but I had some help."

"Help? You mean another driver? Where is he? The paramedics are here."

"My copilot's right here," she said, holding up the Bible she had been reading. "God."

Granted, the only dummies in this story were the free-loading basketballers, but it's a story that just had to be told.

Quite an unbelievable story, if you don't believe in the miracles God still performs today. :-)