In The Wrong Place At The Right Time

I was supposed to be at a BBQ today. I was supposed to be with my family and some friends of ours. Unfortunately...or fortunately...those plans were canceled and I found myself doing something completely different.

I have a cabinet at my parent's house that has been waiting for me to come fix it up so it can house our school supplies. Since it was beautiful out and we had no other plans, I decided to head over there to work on it. Ideally, I would get it sanded down and primed before heading home.

I got to work on my parent's porch and as the day went on, my parents left for plans they had made. By the time I was standing on the porch alone, priming the cabinet with ease, I heard something strange. There was a revving engine and then I heard the engine cut out followed by a banging and a scraping sound.

"What in the world?"

I turned and looked over my shoulder since my back was to the street. I saw something horrible. A man was pulling a motorcycle off his body and started pacing back and forth very confused and limping with one shoe off. I called out to him and asked if he was OK to which he replied in a hostile tone "YES! I can't BELIEVE I didn't wear my leather and gloves!" {thankfully, he was wearing a helmet}

He kept pacing back and forth and then stopped to look at his arm. After I saw his arm, I grabbed my phone and raced off the porch to him. He told me that his front brakes froze and flipped him off the bike. I asked if I can call someone for him {family} and planned on calling 911 when he told me he lived just down the street and called his Grandson to pick him up and take him to the hospital.

This man was not in good shape and I kept encouraging him to go sit down while we moved his bike off the street. His arms were torn to shreds and the palms of his hands were not recognizable as palms. One hand actually looked like it had a bullet wound in it. He speculated that he "may have" done something to his foot too and I'm sure he was right by the way he was limping.

With the bike off the road, I asked if I could pray for him before he left. It may have been a little bold of me to ask but I felt like it was the only thing I could do for him. He agreed and I prayed with him and his Grandson.  Afterward, they thanked me and drove off together to the hospital.

I was left to my cabinet and primer again but my mind was whirling. There were plenty of other people on that street who were home but none of them came out to even see if this man was alright. If I hadn't been there, would anyone have tried to help him?

Perhaps I was just in the wrong place at the right time.

PS...The mom in me really wants to plead with those who ride motorcycles to do so safely. Don't ride without protective gear on...even if you're just going around the block. Mmmkay? Thanks.