The Spirit Told Me to Speed

By Nichole Giles

Cindy Beck, who is a great friend of mine, wrote an blog a while back about following the promptings of the spirit. Her article inspired me to think back on some experiences of my own.

As I searched my mind, several instances occurred to me. I’ve probably received hundreds or thousands of promptings throughout my life, but a few specific times came to mind, when the still small voice whispered more loudly than usual and I was able to see a result of heeding those instructions.

For example: Just after I turned thirty, I was finally able to talk my husband into letting me buy the convertible I always dreamed of. It isn’t anything fancy, and not very expensive either. But it is impractical, which is why very few families with several children own them.

For me, though, it wasn’t as impractical as, say, driving all over town in a family sized SUV while all my kids are in school. So, while my convertible is something of an indulgence, it gets good gas mileage, and that helps me justify it.

Anyway, we got the car in the spring, and I spent the entire spring and summer driving with the top down—no matter how cold the spring or how hot the summer. That’s why I bought this particular car. One day, I was driving down the freeway—on my way to some appointment or another—and I was in the far right hand lane, otherwise known as the slow lane. I had my stereo up to a deafening volume and was singing along at the top of my lungs, when a glass truck drove up next to me.

Something told me, “Speed up, get out of the way.”

Well, with my music so loud, it’s a miracle I could even hear. But I took a chance and craned my head around to look. Three or four ladders were mounted on the side of the truck. They looked stable enough, but again, I felt a very strong warning. “Move!”

A thought crossed my mind about what might happen if a ladder were to fall on me—going sixty-miles an hour on the freeway—with no roof to protect my head. OUCH! So I hit the gas, speeding past the truck. My heart pounded in my chest like a bass drum. As I slowed my speed again, I happened to glance in my rearview mirror, and watched in horror as one of the ladders fell off the truck and tumbled to the ground where I’d been driving only seconds before. The car behind me slammed on its breaks, narrowly avoiding an accident.

Luckily, that day, no one was hurt. There is no way I could have known that a ladder was going to fall off that truck—except for the whisperings in my ear. I shudder to think what might have happened if I hadn’t obeyed the Spirit by breaking the speed limit.

I’ve told that story to several people, but it occurred to me today that I’ve never written it down. Strange, how easily we set aside those experiences that strengthen our testimonies and enforce our beliefs.

I have to thank Cindy for reminding me of that incident, because this time, I decided to write it down and share it. And, well, if you see more of this type of story from me in the next little while, I’ll give her credit for those too. It’s a great friend indeed, who reminds you about all the juicy little tidbits of wisdom that are buried deep within your memory.