DETOUR for prayer

I Was Out On Highway 280 in San Mateo, California, in the middle of the day, in the middle of a traffic jam. Behind the wheel of my brand-new Plymouth Arrow—the first new car I'd ever owned—I was on my way to my girlfriend's house to show it to her. Looking way up ahead, I could see cars making a detour around something.

When I finally got to that spot, I saw a big dog, a black Labrador retriever, lying in the middle lane. He had been hit by a car, but I could see he was still alive. The other drivers were slowly steering their cars around him.

During the preceding months, I'd been reading in the Bible about ways that Jesus loved and helped people—even those he didn't really know. I had been wanting more and more to love the way he did, and this looked like an opportunity to do that, even if it was a dog instead of a person. So I stopped, got out of the car, walked over, and picked up that dog.

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Good neighbors in a crisis time
June 7, 2004

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