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My empty light blinks on. Pulling off the interstate as  my  two-year old daughter sings,  a  gas station is nowhere to be seen.

A rickety metal Sinclair sign  sends me 3 miles down a rutted back road in southern Indiana.

A deserted  gas station greets me as the car rolls over tall grass growing up between concrete cracks.

Gas pumped a twenty to pay and child on my hip,  two red necks approach swiftly, the smell of unkempt bodies and beer knocks my senses and a small brass bell rings as my back pushes open the dusty glass door.

Hank Williams sings from where I hope a cashier is waiting to save me, but no, the barely stocked store is  hauntingly empty.

God spoke to my spirit warning me and nudging me to pull over sooner, but I ignored His signals and the lowering gas gauge.

The odor sickens me as they  paw me and  desperation hit to think they were about to touch my daughter.

The garage door swings open and a gritty oil covered man reaches out toward me.

The Lord is an ever-present helper even when we ignore His promptings.

The two men seemed to vanish like rats into a rusty blue Camaro with a confederate flag covering the back window.

He had been under a car in the bay and was so sorry. “How can I help you Ma’am?”

For He will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. Psalm 91:11

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