As I waited for Gerber to come fix my tire in a dangerous location outside of Guatemala City, I remembered a time when I came home and noticed a white powder-like substance on the tile floor. What kind of animal leaves something like that? I looked up, and there was a small hole all the way through the ceiling and roof. I checked the floor and found a bullet slug that had rolled under the couch. This happened twice, with the second one coming through the ceiling and hitting the metal kitchen sink. I did some research on the internet and read that “terminal velocity” is when a bullet is fired straight up and then falls to the earth again, accelerating until it reaches a point where its weight equals the resistance of the air. This gives the bullet enough energy to bore through materials like a roof. Yes, people have been hit, injured, or killed by this act. I don’t know if the neighbor liked to celebrate or practice shooting his gun, but I have two 9mm slugs in my jewelry box that didn’t get me.

The Lord gave me protection and guidance just as He promised. Two dear brothers-in-the-Lord, Gerber and Raul, determined that I needed to move, and a few months later, a house became available for me to rent. Listening to their wisdom, the Lord guided me to a place that offered more security, no steep stairs, and a living area that was all closed in with an automatic garage door. This house even had a full set of kitchen cabinets. Something I never had in my past homes.

My thoughts continued while I waited to be rescued. Lord, it is my fault that I’m in this situation. I tell our missionaries that they need to travel with a companion, and I didn’t follow my own advice—Ms. Independent. I knew about the safety of traveling in pairs. I looked out the side window, and there they were. Two police officers in their black pickup pulled up beside me. The stern faced passenger rolled his window down with his rifle ready to aim and fire. Oh, Lord, help me to know what to do. I saw an alertness that would be followed by action if I didn’t do something. I remembered that they could not see me through the tinted windows. Against my resolve not to communicate with the police, I rolled my window down halfway. The seriousness on their faces changed to relief when they saw this white grandma facing them. I sighed when the rifle lowered, and the driver said, “Señora, you need to move your car. This is a very dangerous place to be.”

“I understand that, Señor, but I have a flat tire. My friend is on his way to help me,” I explained.

“No, Señora, you do not understand how dangerous it is for you to be here alone,” insisted the driver. He opened his door, signaled to his partner with the rifle to watch the highway, and came over to the car. He looked at the tires and found the one with a hole in it. Feeling a peace settle over me, I climbed out of the car. The officer told me he would change the tire, but I needed to get back in the car. I obediently did that. Watching the younger police officer guard us made me feel safe. The testimonies from my earlier remembrances encouraged me as I recognized the protective hand of God. He used these two men to guard me and change the tire. My trust level went up greatly on the scale.

With the cute little donut tire replacing the flat tire, I could now meet Gerber in the next town. “Thank you for helping me, Señor. I believe that the Lord sent you, and I truly appreciate all that you have done.”

“You are welcome, Señora. It’s a privilege to help you.” With those words and a slight smile, he signaled to his partner, and they hopped into the truck. I drove onto the highway, rejoicing that something so dangerous ended well. My two angels wearing badges followed me all the way to Jutiapa, where I met up with Gerber.

As a child of God, I see God’s protection and guidance on a regular basis in my life and those around me. I’ve grown greatly in trusting my life in His hands. One will probably never reach the “Perfect Ten” in trust, but I desire to get as close as I can and not allow fear to dictate to me.