Priscila found an empty seat and I sat next to her in the aisle on a plastic gas container. About 40 minutes down the road we sideswiped another bus while going around a bend. Priscila and I just looked at each other in disbelief. Everyone quickly dismounted to see what damage had been done. The look of astonishment of our companions from the first bus and land cruiser matched what Priscila and I felt.

We stood outside the bus with packs on our backs and held each other’s hands, bowed our heads, and thanked God for his protection and asked for it to continue and wisdom to be given. Although no one was hurt, this was worse for Priscila and I; it was getting dark and we were in the middle of nowhere. I tried to call Girma, Seyoum, Paul, a taxi driver friend, but we had no service. “Help” I prayed again.

Not too long afterwards, a rickety old EMPTY bus slowly approached. Some people started to hop on so Priscila and I followed. They gave us seats in the front next to the driver. At first this was appreciated because we did not have to be squished like sardines in the back. However, it was the most dangerous spot. I sat sideways facing the driver with inches between my side and the windshield. If we stopped suddenly or hit anything, I knew I would go through the glass. Knowing our track record…I prayed again.

As more people than seats boarded, I better evaluated our mode of transportation. The bus was robustly shaking as we sat in neutral. The metal frame was rusty and in place of a speedometer and gas gauge were knotted wires. Adding to our seemingly hopeless situation was the horn that seemingly originated from circus clowns.

The driver drove cautiously, always beeping before turns. We chugged up hills and drifted down the other side. Most all vehicles past us, however, it was encouraging when we passed a bicycle and later a tractor.

That night we pulled into the Akso bus station just seconds before Girma, a hospital employee, who would take us to our hotel. We were so thankful to have safely arrived in Addis; hardly believing all day’s adventures. Our Sunday drive was not what we had expected.

Many expats and hospital employees have uneventfully traveled to and from Addis on public transportation and nothing like this had ever happened before. Thinking, I asked God “Why didn’t You intervene? After all, there were plenty of opportunities.” I know God could have kept the first bus running, the man crossing the street safe, and prevented the third accident as well. Each was an opportunity for God to step in and save the day.

God has his own timing, however. I was reminded of this via the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, three young men from Babylon. They were mandated by the king to bow down and worship a recently constructed monument. Refusing, the three were sent to the king, providing a seemingly perfect opportunity for God to intervene. Under the influence of God, the king could recognize and commend their boldness, courage, and faith but that did not happen. Even after a compelling speech by the three young men, God’s protective hand seems absent.

The king’s fury surged and the three young men were sentenced to death; still God did not intervene. They were tossed into a blazing furnace. It was in the moment of death that God interceded. When the king looked in the fire he saw the three plus one more that looked like “a son of the gods.” The king called them out of the furnace. The raging fire had no effect on their bodies or clothes, and they didn’t even smell like smoke!

God’s involvement seemed late. It was clear, however, that God did the saving; it was nothing that the three said or did, it was not fate, or anyone or anything else. It was God. Just like the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, Priscila and I did not understand the events happening to us. Nonetheless, it was clear that God was watching over us, intervening in his perfect timing.

“Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshack and Abed-nego, who has sent His angel and delivered His servants who put their trust in Him” Daniel 3:28 (NASB).