Would You Hitchhike With an Angel?

Scripture tells us that God “shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways” and that “in their hands they shall bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone” (Ps. 91:11-13). I’ve written a book called Angel Stories that seeks to demonstrate just that—that angels are operating all around you and that angelic intervention is available to you.  

God loves you, which is why He sends His mighty angels to protect and assist you. Angels are nearer than you think!

Here’s one story from my book, told by John Paul Jackson about the time he hitchhiked with an angel.  

John Paul Jackson’s Angel on the Road

I decided to drive to West Texas, where I had been invited to speak at a church. At one point I’d driven so far, I hadn’t seen anything for 20 miles—not even a cow. It was desolate. That is when my truck started slowing down. I pushed on the gas, but it slowed down to nothing. I looked in the mirror and saw smoke billowing out from under the truck, and I realized I had blown the transmission. It had burned up. And there I was, in the middle of desolate West Texas. There was nothing and no one around.

“Lord,” I asked, “why did You allow this to happen? I’m Your servant. I am going to speak at this church. I have to be there tonight. I’m speaking tonight. Why are You letting this happen to me?”  

And the Lord spoke back to me, “I didn’t tell you to buy this truck.” 

“But Lord,” I answered, “it was the right price. It was everything I wanted.” 

“I didn’t tell you to buy this truck,” He repeated. 

“Well, Lord, OK. I’m sorry. I am. I’m sorry I bought it,” I replied. “But, Lord, help me. I have got to be at the church tonight. Please help me.” 

I had not even finished praying that prayer when over a little rise in the road came an old—old, like 1960s old—car. It was just puttering along. A man was driving who looked like a farmer. He stopped, looked at me, and said, “Boy, it’s not your lucky day is it?” 

“No, sir, it’s not,” I said. “I made a mistake buying this truck.” 

“Well, I reckon you did,” he said. “Where are you going?” 

“You don’t know the place,” I told him, assuming he wouldn’t. “I’m going to this little town called Floydada, Texas.” 

“I know exactly where it’s at,” he said. “I’m going right through there, son. Hop in, and I’ll take you.” 

So I got in, and he drove me to Floydada, Texas. He dropped me off at the church, and when I got out of his car, I took two steps up onto the sidewalk and turned around to thank him, and … he was gone. I mean, the car was gone. The man was gone. There was nothing. The car wasn’t driving away; it was just gone. Two seconds, two steps. He was gone.

I had entertained an angel “unaware,” as the Scripture says—until that very moment when I looked back and realized, “Oh my goodness. That was an angel.”