Running On Empty

 

Running On Empty

By S. R. Morris

 

            Stephanie looked down from the highway to her gas gauge. It had been hovering above the red mark for several miles. Each time she passed a gas station, she reminded herself to stop at and refuel at the next one. But one was too far off the road, the next one’s prices were too high, and another looked too dumpy.

            Spring break had ended way too soon. And driving ten hours to get home, and another ten hours back to school, had certainly cut into the time she had to relax. Classes started again tomorrow morning. She dreaded the thought. This year it seemed she never had enough time to get everything done, and her grades were suffering.

            So was her spiritual life. Tired from studying and keeping up with other activities around campus, she often fell asleep while studying or praying. She felt guilty for putting her school activities before her relationship with God.

Stephanie glanced at the gas gauge again. Now the needle was hiding the “empty” mark and she would have to stop at the next station regardless of its condition or prices. In the distance she saw a sign for a convenience store. As she drove closer, she noticed a small service station next door. She turned the steering wheel of the old Chevy and coasted to a stop alongside the self-service pumps.

            She hurriedly stuck the gas nozzle in her car’s tank and set the trigger on automatic. Stretching her arms over her head, she walked toward the building.

            Suddenly, behind her she heard a dull thud, followed quickly by the sounds of metal scraping pavement and brakes screeching to stop a car. Before the sounds ended, she turned and watched in horror. A small pair of blue-jeans-covered legs beat erratically against the rough asphalt as the car pushed a tiny human form in front of its skidding tires.

            Stephanie felt sick to her stomach, but she couldn’t take her eyes from the sight. The small body was almost hidden by the long hood of the car and the front tire. The scene was too real for life. It belonged in a made-for-television movie. The legs looked like those of a doll thrown under the vehicle to make the episode more shocking. Finally, the car had come to a stop with the front wheel resting on top of the motionless form.

            “Oh, dear God!” Stephanie gasped as she ran toward the street. She stopped just a few feet away. The driver, a young man of about 25, seemed to be in shock. Realizing what had happened, he was afraid to look for fear of what he would see.

            “Back up! Get the car off him!” A voice from the quickly forming crowd took command of the situation. “Stand back. Give him room!”

            Slowly the car moved backward to reveal the body of a young boy about six years old. He lay on his side with one arm twisted behind his back. Blood matted his blond hair. His crushed body looked lifeless and his skin was a pale blue. His eyes were open in a blank stare.

            “He’s dead!” screamed a woman standing nearby.

            A scriptural passage flashed into Stephanie’s mind. “And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up.” (James 5:15)

Stephanie started to pray. “Dear Father in heaven, You are so great and merciful. Only You can heal this boy. If it’s Your will, heal him, please�"“

“Look, he’s breathing!” a voice interrupted her prayer.

Stephanie opened her eyes to see the boy’s chest rise and fall. She jumped up, ran to her car, and grabbed a blanket from the back seat. Quickly she ran back through the crowd and laid the blanket over the boy to keep him warm.

“Don’t move!” said an elderly man bending over the lad.

Then the boy began crying and calling for his mother. He tried to raise himself up with his arms, still crying for his mother.

“Lie still, son,” the old man urged again.

“Make him lie still,” said another man, directing his words at Stephanie. She reached for the boy, but he began to stand up. She pulled him into her arms, thinking his legs must surely be broken.

“I want my mommy!” cried the boy. Standing fully on his feet, he tried to push away from Stephanie. His strength amazed her. Apparently he had no major injuries.

Stephanie pulled the child into her lap again. “What’s your name, honey?” she asked. The boy quit struggling and sobbed in her arms.

“David,” he cried.

“It’s okay, David,” she said, rocking him. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Stephanie’s eyes filled with tears. “Thank you, heavenly Father,” she whispered.

She rocked David until the ambulance arrived. The she gently handed the boy to the paramedic saying, “His name is David”

Stephanie turned and walked back toward her car with the gas nozzle still pointed into her tank. The picture of David’s legs, beating wildly against the pavement, flashed into her mind. She wondered if she’d ever be able to erase the scene from her memory.

“It’s a miracle he’s alive.” Commented the station attendant as Stephanie handed him the money for the gas.

“Yeah,” Stephanie answered as she slid across the worn seat covers of the old car. “It’s a miracle.”

She put the key in the ignition and stopped. She really had witnessed a miracle. God had heard and answered her prayer. She realized that God always hears and answers the prayer of faith, even from someone as unworthy as she.

“Thank you, Father, for loving me so much,” she said out loud. “Help me to set priorities. Help me to put you first.”

Stephanie looked at the gas gauge. It read ‘full’ now. She turned to old Chevy out onto the highway and resolved in her mind never to let her tank get so close to empty again.

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