Miracle of the unwrecked tractor
Another week has come and gone, and with it, its own problems and joys. The weather held out – and so did hubby’s knee – and so we have made hay again after a two-month delay. The shorter hay days of fall are appropriate for the shorter days he can handle with minimal pain right now, and so another piece of God’s plan falls into place.
On Friday, we went to the field together with the intentions of square-baling whatever hay was ready. I had gone ahead to shake it out and prepare to rake while he ran some other errands. When he returned, I shut the tractor off and went with him to get the square baler from the other side of the road.
We drove into the field where the baler was parked and began to uncover it. We removed the straps and the tarp and then cleaned up our mess. When we were done, we began the descent down the ridge, across the road and into the field where we needed to be. The whole process took about 20 minutes.
When we got back with the baler, we noticed immediately that the tractor I had been using moments before disappeared. Crazy thoughts abounded, like, did someone steal it? Frantically, we looked around for it, and finally saw some tall grass that was disturbed 100 yards away. He drove his tractor – while I ran – toward the disaster we were certain awaited us.
When we got there, we saw the tractor just sitting at the edge of the creek. The bale spear was hanging over the edge of the bank (which was an 8-foot drop) and the tires were about three feet away from going over. There was not a scratch on the tractor. My heart could not have beaten faster if I had just completed a marathon.
As close as we can figure, I must have knocked my tractor out of gear when I climbed off of it. From there, it must have coasted down the hill and over a small bank, then continued forward another 50 feet before coming to rest at the edge of the creek. It was the only spot along the creek bank that was tree-free, I might add.
In all reality, the tractor should have continued forward and over the precipice into the creek. It should have landed on its nose in the water, crushing, cracking and bending metal all over the place. It was truly a miracle that we were able to back it up, turn it around, pull it back into the field and continue using it as if nothing had happened.
I believe that miracles still happen, and I believe we can see them every day if we look. A baby’s laughter, making it to the gas station when your car is on Empty, the sun’s rays coming from behind a cloud in the sky. These are all miracles of a generous and loving God. But sometimes, we need a little extra reminder that He is holding us through life’s troubles.
After the summer we have had – and believe me, I could write a chart-topping country song – we needed that reminder. I believe that God decided we had simply had enough. I believe that He put His hand up at the creek’s edge and stopped the tractor from going over. In my opinion, this tractor story is no less a miracle than the parting of the Red Sea or the multiplication of the loaves and fishes.
And I am truly grateful that He is holding me – and my tractor – through all of our future troubles, as well.
Laura Zoeller can be reached at email@example.com.