Jeff and I were in the blue truck as we crossed over the Columbia River when we saw a woman standing on the bridge just as we were entering Oregon.
She had light red hair and was wearing a thin modest dress, both of which were blowing in the gentle breeze. There was a tiny satchel at her feet, and she had on a pair of flat walking shoes.
Afraid she was preparing to jump off the bridge; I quickly pulled to the side of the highway and carefully approached her.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
“Are you a Christian?” She asked.
Her question surprised me, but when I answered affirmatively, she looked heavenward, clasped her hands together, and as if praying said, “Blessing. Blessing. Thank you. Thank you.”
She then looked directly at me with her piercing green eyes, and as she strode toward me, extended her hand and, by way of introduction said, “I am Diane Johnson; Soldier in Almighty God’s Army.”
Enveloped in goose bumps, I was taken aback, but extended my hand and greeted her cordially.
Her face was deeply browned by the sun, making her eyes even more bright and penetrating. This was not a casual suntan, but of the type that one only sees on the faces of the homeless, lonely, and wandering.
When I asked about her circumstances, she said that she had been on the road from Kentucky for five weeks and was nearing her destination in Salt Lake City where she had secured a job.
She got in the truck between Jeff and I and we visited as I drove.
She said she would appreciate a ride to Pendleton which was about 35 miles from where she had been standing on the bridge, and although we weren’t going that far, it seemed like a reasonable request.
I noticed that her hair and dress were newly washed and clean. There was no odor that one would have expected from someone who had been on the road for weeks.
As we approached a truck stop I asked if she would like something to eat or drink, to which she eagerly agreed. When we stopped, she selected a banana, an apple, an orange, a sandwich, milk, and bottled water.
I smiled that she was so confident in what she presumed would be our generosity.
We got back in the truck and as we visited, she said she liked to stay in hotels and could use some money to get a room that night. This explained why she was clean.
She was so pleasant and filled with faith that it was easy for Jeff and me to then give her money for the room she would certainly be staying in later that night.
By way of unsolicited advice I told her it was illegal to hitchhike on the Interstate, to which she replied, “I wasn’t hitchhiking.”
I conceded that she had not been trying to ask for a ride, but said that even being a pedestrian was not lawful, to which she said, “I wasn’t walking.”
Not only was she incredibly brave and substantively faithful, she was unusually wise and surprisingly street smart.
As we were nearing her interim destination on the south side of town, she said, “Slow down now, and let me off right here.”
We bid her farewell, best wishes, and Godspeed as she took her satchel, groceries, and bottled drinks, and got out of the truck.
She stepped back from the vehicle and we drove away.
I gazed at her in amazement in the rearview mirror.
The sun was shining brightly behind her.
The wind was gently blowing her hair and dress.
The satchel and food were at her feet.
I smiled to myself and then at Jeff.
We got to feel like Christians and to have the blessing of meeting Diane Johnson; Soldier in Almighty God’s Army.
So this is what I have for you. Occasionally you may want to just stand still. You might be surprised at what happens next.
Be clean.
Be brave.
Be confident.
Be faithful.
Be smart.
Be patient.
Remember Diane Johnson.
It was great to talk to Dad and learn from him. The girls loved this story.
We ended with one of his favorite scriptures which is John 16:33, "These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer' I have overcome the world."
Later this week we will enjoy Tres Leche Cake which is a favorite of Dad's. I love this new little tradition.
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