I wasn’t looking to be freaked out. It was 3:30 a.m., I had been working for over 22 hours, and I had to drive 45 minutes to Starkville, Mississippi. All I wanted was sleep.
While driving down the foggy, pitch-black highway, I turned on The Kevin McCullough Show, a talk radio show on which the host was discussing whether kids should play with BB guns. I have a strong opinion on the topic, so when the host invited callers to respond, I picked up my cell phone and called.
The line was busy.
But I wasn’t giving up – I had nothing else to do. I dialed the number again and again, getting the same busy signal. Then the radio host said, “Alright, our first caller is David from Arkansas. David, are you there?”
“Hehh-lo,” said the caller in a familiar Ozark twang.
My mouth dropped open. David, the first caller, was my father.
“Dad?” I said out loud.
I was dumbfounded, confused, staring at the radio, and trying to listen to my dad as he shared his opinion with the host. And I could hardly think.
There was no doubt it was my father’s voice on the line, but the chances of this freakish coincidence happening – at an hour at which I’m never awake, in a rural area in which I don’t live, on a radio show I’ve never listened to – seemed impossible.
After Dad finished making his comment, I dialed his phone number.
“Hehh-lo,” he said.
“Dad! What are you doing up?” I nearly shouted into the phone.
“But – you were just on the radio, Dad.”
“You know, you were talking about kids using BB guns.”
“Oh yeah, on the Kevin McCullough Show. Yeah, I called that show two nights ago.”
“Wait – what?” I said. And then I realized the reason I was getting a busy signal: the show wasn’t live. It had somehow been broadcast live two nights before when my dad called in from Arkansas. And two days later, at 3:30 a.m., at the very moment I was trying to call in, they replayed my dad’s call on a radio station in Mississippi.
The next day, I wondered if the radio show was just some audio hallucination brought on by 22 hours without sleep. Later on, when I called my dad and we talked about it, things got even more weird.
“Josh,” he said. “I want to tell you something. When you called me at 3:30 a.m., I was physically sick, and I was feeling emotionally low as well. And after we talked, the sickness and low feelings completely went away. I could feel the power of God, Josh. It was strong.”
I didn’t even know how to respond to that. The bizarre intervention left me feeling like I had played a part in a Twilight Zone episode with no clear point.
So for two weeks, I repeatedly asked God to help me see why He would do such a weird miracle. What was He showing me? What was He showing my dad?
No matter how much I questioned the Lord, the only thing that would come to mind was a miracle from the Bible — that time Jesus mixed spit and dirt, rubbed it into a blind man’s eyes, and told him to go wash in a specific pool. The guy did it, and he was healed.
And I thought my miracle was weird.
Finally, I went back and reread the passage about the mud-and-spit-mix miracle. It was there I found the purpose of my own weird miracle: “This happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9:3).
It took a couple of weeks, but God finally showed me that my highway miracle had a greater purpose: to open my eyes so I could see see my Heavenly Father’s love a little more clearly.
This is a powerful story, Josh!
James, it was so bizarre. It felt like an episode of Lost.
Mitch says you have a gift to be able to bring all of us along with you in your happenings. And to top it off, we glimpse God at every turn. Thanks Josh. Take care.
Josh,A similar thing happened to me. A friend called me at the store. When I answered he said, This is "John." I recognized him and asked him how he was doing. We began to talk and wound up going to lunch together. It was a good time of ministry. After lunch he thanked me for calling him. I said, "You called me." He said, "No. I was just returning a missed call from your office number." No one called him from my office. God obviously wanted us to talk that day.
Kevin, that's a cool story. Thank you for sharing it here. I'll bet there are so many stories that we either don't tell or even forget from our own lives.
I love it!!! You're the feeling in my life, you're the inspiration.
Wow, that's the first time anyone ever sang a Chicago song in the comments.
Dude, some weird stuff happens in Mississippi… Great story. 🙂 You never know what God is going to do. I'm glad I stopped by for a visit. Thanks for sharing!
Yes, it is about God; the God that chooses to work through chosen vessels. His virtue flowed through a phone call that He wonderfully orchestrated. Of course, we can do nothing of ourselves. He is sovereign.
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