Hit and Run

For a time I worked part time nights as a Computer Operator. This was in a ticket office in down town Tempe Arizona. I would come in for a few hours each night to back up the system. Many nights I would not leave to go to our home in Mesa until 1 or 2 in the morning.

At that time I was driving a Chevy Long bed Pickup Truck. It was old and a bit clunky, but it was built like a brick-house. It had a solid heavy duty bumper on the back that jutted out like battering ram. Tailgaters would need to be pretty brave to risk challenging me from the rear.

Driving home one cold rainy winter night on Apace Blvd., the truck conked out and stalled....right in the middle of the road.

No power, and raining, I wanted to get the pickup out of the road. So, I put the truck in neutral and got behind the truck and started pushing. Slowly rolling the truck forward, with the steering wheel slightly angled toward the curb, I had my thighs churning. Apache was deserted that late at night, quiet and drizzling. There was no other cars or pedestrians around in any direction.

 A still small voice came over me, whispering for me to get out of the road quick. I have always been one that believes in listening to promptings, and admittedly I was in a precarious spot. So I released from the Chevy and moved quickly to the sidewalk. Within seconds a sedan came speeding toward the exact spot where I had been standing. It banged lightly into the back of the bumper, ricocheted back a car length, and then took off again. I'm not sure how much his front-end was damaged, I could not see it. And then, the sedan stopped in the middle lane about 200 yards down the road. I think the driver may have been looking back, maybe to see if I was ok. I had barely moved out of the way in time. I was ok, and that truck with that solid bumper was fine. Though he had not hit my truck too hard, if I had been standing between his car and the bumper I probably would have been halved.

After idling for a few minutes, the car drove on. I was pretty shaken up. I don't know if he would have actually stopped and helped me if I had been hit. It is just as likely that I would have been a it and run victim.

Still small voice? My Mom might probably say that I and episode of ESP or that some ghostly kin had been there to warn me. Some people would maybe say an angel was watching over me. I admit, I don't know for sure what warned me, but I join the ranks of my own church who say it was the Holy Spirit prompting me in the 'still small voice'.

1 KINGS 19

And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake:

 12 And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a ^astill small ^bvoice.

What do you think?  I'd love to read your comments. Read about some other 'miracles' I have experienced here, and here.

A Saint I Ain't

I have a standard reply when people casually, jokingly, refer to me as 'St. Nick'. A Saint I Ain't.  People are always adding the word 'Saint' to my name. I thought my reply is appropriate, it is the literal truth and it rhymes. Or it used to be the truth. Does having a Saint relic inside your body make you closer to being canonized?

What does the Catholic Church (Church Of My Youth) Require For Canonization?

• Heroic Virtue...hmm. Not me.
• Posthumous Miracle. Not yet. I'm not quite toast yet. That is a miracle.
• Martyrdom... Well, people tell me to quit being a martyr. But no.
• Second Posthumous Miracle. Nope.

So, I guess I am not likely to become a Saint as a Catholic. The Church I attend now is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. So, does that get me the official 'Saint' title, that and the relic?

The relic I am thinking of is my St. Jude Model 31MJ-501 Heart Valve.

So, who is this St. Jude, and why has he invaded my Saintly Body?

St. Jude, one of the original 12 Apostles,  the patron saint of desperate situations and hospitals. Possibly even a brother of J.C., according to some accounts.

Hmm. That is one serious looking Saint dude. And there he is in the picture, holding his hand over his ticker. They even have an official Catholic prayer to Jude... 

"May the Sacred Heart of * be adored, glorified, loved and preserved now and forever. Sacred Heart of * have mercy on us, Saint Jude worker of Miracles, pray for us, Saint Jude helper and keeper of the hopeless, pray for us, Thank you Saint Jude."

Hmm. (I edited out the Saviors name so I don't get too sacrilegious on this post) But there they go, bringing up heart again. Hopeless, that's me. Desperate, oh yeah, that's me. Is all this a coincidence? A Miracle?

Well, I have miracles. I posted previously about one miracle. But, this whole heart thing might be another one. I had this heart murmur thing all my life....but it was not until I hit 50 that they diagnosed the problem, that it was life threatening. And in surgery to fix the heart problem, the natural valve failed and they had to replace it with this St. Jude contraption. The things the modern medical fields can do in the name of healing now...all the procedures and gadgets and scopes and medicine and implants...miracles all, without any doubt.

My heart surgeon credits my wife for insisting I go to my home care Dr. to get the murmur checked out. He also credits my home care Dr. for referring me to the Cardiologist. So the miracles start to pile up, right wife, right physician, right cardiologist and right surgeon, all saying all the right things. An angel out there watching over me? Angels all around me.

Late at night and the house is quiet. The ladies living here all asleep and I can here St. Jude Medical device 31MJ-501 ticking away like a Swiss clock. This  means that I'm still alive, still shuffling to the beat on this mortal coil. Survive for another day.

Thankful to Angels, to St. Jude, and to my Father in Heaven.

Cheers, nca

Change Up, Just A Little Outside

Wow...too many serious posts in a row. Needed something silly to lighten the load.

From a childhood in a low income large family, I have always found it appropriate to look at all alternatives to solve a problem. That is probably not so unusual. Sometimes, the alternatives my brain comes up somehow come out even more outside of the box then is necessary  And if I go with the thought before really thinking it out...I can put myself in some strange situations.

Case in Point:

Spring in the Valley of the Sun can be totally awesome. Nice weather early. And Spring Training. Yes, 15 major league teams make their preseason home in the Valley, meaning there is a whole lot of baseball going on. And let's face it...I love baseball.

So one spring, when the older girls were not yet teens, the three of us made a trip out to Scottsdale to see the Giants play. We had thought we would sit up on the rolling grass fields in the outfield. Maybe shag a fly ball  eat lunch, enjoy the weather and the game. So we packed a lunch and headed out to old Scottsdale.

When we were entering the stadium, the gatekeeper told us we were not allowed to bring lunches in. WHAT??? We had brought lunches and blankets for just one reason....

Alternative Brain Cells in Gear, click click click. Split second decision, speedier then a fastball...I had an idea.

I sent the girls in on their own, around to a side of the gate where no one could see us, and I tossed the lunches over the fence. Problem solved...NCA style.

A couple years later, at a Church Young Women's meeting where members of the Stake Presidency had invited us to the Stake President's house for a Fireside....some of the girls had prepared special presentations for honoring their parents, particularly the values taught by their parents. When my oldest daughter had her turn...she first talked about my wife...how what a good Mother she was, how she had taught her good Motherhood skills, cooking skills etc. Then she brought me up. She said I had taught her how to think outside of the box. And she told the story I just related about getting our lunches past security at the Spring Training Game.

This was in front of the Stake President and the Young Women's Presidency, and my wife.

Yep.

Cheers, NCA.