I Make God Work Overtime

I was cruising through an unfamiliar four-lane intersection on my way home, when the SUV ahead of me suddenly merged to the left, revealing a stopped bus in my lane on the other side of the intersection. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure I could merge, flicked my signal, and slid to the left. There was one car sitting behind the stopped bus, and as I was about to pull up alongside it, the driver suddenly cranked his wheel hard to the left and shot right in front of me, clearly not seeing me coming. I slammed on my brakes, and he barely squeezed between my rapidly decelerating hulk of a car and the even more hulking bus.
I had specifically prayed that God would protect me on that journey. You could compliment me on my reaction time or call it shear luck that the driver (who I later recognized as a teenager) didn't get his lightweight sedan smeared between me and a bus- an accident which might have killed him, especially if I had nailed his door. Or you can join me in praising God that He got me home safely one more night.