My neighbor called and asked me if I could come over and jump her. I told her honestly, not even if I had a running start. "My van," she giggled, "the battery is dead again and I have to get to the store." I have become the defacto AAA service in the neighborhood as everyone knows I have jumper cables, an air compressor, and the knowledge to pick locks and jimmy windows. This is not a role I asked for, but we all do our part to contribute.
So the girls and I climb into the Jeep to drive across the street. I have to manuever the Jeep a little closer so the jumper cables will reach while the kids try to catch snowflakes on their tongues. As I step out of the Jeep I notice some brightly colored plastic by my right foot. I pick it up thinking it is a child's toy. It isn't. It is the keychain that belongs to my five month pregnant neighbor and as I hold it up she squeels and charges at me for a bear hug. "I've been looking for those for a week! I prayed to Saint Christopher to help me find my keys and you found them for me! You really are a Godsend! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she gushed.
Now let's be honest here, the last thing that crosses someone's mind when they see me coming is, "Good, here comes the Godsend again." I'm certain it is more along the lines of, "Not this rat-bastard again...shit." And while I have been accused of being a tool before, I have never been an instrument of God, but I hear tell he works in mysterious ways, so who knows.