A very special time for another perfect Angel Miracle. Lots of love, light, hugs and blessings.   THE DAY THE ANGELS DROVE   As we've seen, many people work in jobs where angelic protection seems necessary. Cross-country truck drivers probably fall into this category, and Gail Backlund would agree. On a gorgeous spring day, Gail could feel the sun on her left arm as she pulled out of the truck yard in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Her assignment was a fairly routine day-and-a-half trip to Springfield, Illinois, hauling a load of corrosives in her fifty-foot trailer. It was dangerous cargo, but Gail was a professional who had logged many miles, and she was well qualified for the job. There was an extra bonus today: another driver, Tommy, was going to Springfield too, carrying the same cargo. "It's always nice to have a buddy along on these jobs," Gail says. "The time goes by much faster, and that person is always available should anything go wrong." Tommy was first out of the gate, and Gail was about five miles behind him on the road. Soon, the two were talking on their CB radios and enjoying the day. As the big rigs turned onto a two-lane highway, they began to build up speed. Eventually both were traveling at more than ninety miles per hour. "That speed was not unusual," Gail admits, "because as a professional tractor-trailer driver, I normally drove at least twenty miles over the speed limit. Even though it was a dangerous speed, I felt that I could handle any situation that might occur." The first two hours on the road passed without incident. Gail appreciated the weather. In earlier days, she might have said a small prayer of thanks to God for loving her and keeping her safe. But life had handed Gail some blows, and although she had been raised a Christian, those days were over. "I believed that God existed, but that he didn't care about me. I had given up the church and put God behind me." Instead, she chatted with Tommy, who stayed about five miles ahead. Another hour went by. Suddenly, without warning, Tommy began yelling over the CB radio. "Oh my God!" he shouted. "I can't stop!" "Tommy!" Gail grabbed her radio. "What's happening?" "My God]" he shouted again. "I'm going to hit them!" "Tommy, Tommy ... " Gail couldn't see him, she could only hear his terrified voice. She shouted again, but there was no response. Just then, Gail reached the top of a steep grade, a vantage point from which she could see the long, thin ribbon of highway unfolding in front of her. Yes, there was Tommy way ahead of her-or at least the back of his trailer. What was wrong? "Tommy!" she shouted again, but heard nothing.  Alarmed, Gail started the long descent, her speed building.  "About halfway down, I got a better look and could see that Tommy's brakes were smoking, and he was driving all over the road." His brakes must be out! Now Gail could see that there was at least one gas station ahead of Tommy. If he hit those gasoline pumps ... Immediately Gail reached for her Jake Brake switch. "A Jake Brake slows a diesel engine down faster than air brakes can, letting a truck stop sooner and safer," Gail explains. "But nothing happened! I turned the switch off, then on again. Still nothing. My Jake Brake wasn't working!" Gail glanced at the speed gauge. She was traveling about 110 miles per hour. As she looked ahead, she realized there was not one but two gas stations, one on either side of the road. see again. Somehow, her rig had passed the second station without mishap! But she was not safe yet. Looming ahead of her was the ditch, running along the side of the road. If the truck lurched into. the ditch, it would probably turn over and spill its contents. Yet, unbelievably, the truck turned again, away from the road's edge. "It was then that I realized what was happening," Gail says. "Angels were driving my truck! I had nothing to fear, because I was in the hands of the messengers from God." Tommy's rig loomed in front of her now, the final obstacle on what was becoming a miracle journey. "Lord," Gail prayed, "stop me-now!" The truck came to a complete stop, just two feet from Tommy's bumper. In shock, Gail climbed out of her cab and knelt on the ground in thanks. Then, as she looked up, she gasped. Angels, angels all around her. "They emerged from my truck and came closer to where I was kneeling. I could only see their shadows, but they were the most beautiful beings." She felt as if the whole of heaven was there, surrounding everyone for miles around. Bits of Psalm 23 came to her mind from an earlier time: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For the first time in years, she praised the Lord. Gradually, she realized that she was not the only one kneeling on the side of the two-lane highway. "At least fifty people had assembled there, gas-station customers and the children from the school bus, all kneeling and praying, and Tommy was right beside   Gail's load was combustible. There was going to be a terrible wreck ahead-Tommy, the gas-station fuel, customers, other drivers-unless she could do something to stop it. Desperate, she stood on the tractor's brake pedal and pulled the separate handle to ignite the truck brakes, but the truck would not slow down. It had been years since Gail prayed. But now she heard herself screaming. "Lord, help me! I can't stop!" Now at closer range, she could see that Tommy had managed to stop his truck about one hundred yards past the gas stations, but he was stuck in the middle of the road. Gail was still traveling around ninety miles an hour and wouldn't have room to go around him. If she crashed into him, if their combustible loads met, she didn't want to think about the inferno that would result. Should I aim for one of the gas stations? she wondered, panic now taking hold. "Lord, help me! Send your angels!" Gail prayed again, as she stood on her brake pedal with both feet. She was less than half a mile now from the gas stations and still going eighty miles per hour. Should she swerve to the left and try to turn her rig around so she would be facing uphill? The trailer might tip, but at least she would save some lives. Did she have time and room to turn? Gail took another look at the gas station. What was that vehicle parked by a pump? Her heart seemed to stop. It was a yellow school bus, filled with children. Oh, God, no. If she couldn't make the turn, if she lost control, her rig would end up there. The children were right in her path. She imagined the explosions, the carnage and death. "Oh, angels, please!" she cried and, still standing on the brake pedal, tried to turn the steering wheel. "At that exact moment, the wheel jerked out of my hands!" Gail says. "I tried to grab it again, but I couldn't. I was now so close to the gas pump and the bus that I could clearly see a little girl sitting in the backseat pointing at me." The truck turned back to the left, missing the pumps and the school bus by inches. But Gail's hands were not on the steering wheel. How had the truck turned by itself? Now she was bouncing straight across the road, toward the other gas station. Again, Gail tried to grab the wheel. The truck was slowing slightly, and maybe she could turn it around. But again, the wheel was jerked out of her hands. God, God. There were at least seven cars parked at or near the gas pumps there. "Get out of the way!" Gail screamed at the people. "You're going to get blown up!" As she got closer, she realized that no one was moving. They were all standing in place, a few even holding gas hoses. "Some had their heads bowed, as if they were praying. Others were just looking at me, their faces stunned." It made no sense, but again Gail seemed unable to take the wheel. Watching helplessly, Gail saw her truck begin to turn by itself. "It was as if someone else was driving. I looked out the front windshield but I couldn't see anything. Something seemed to be blocking my view." She felt the presence of unseen hands holding the steering wheel, maneuvering it away from danger. Then Gail could see again. Somehow, her rig had passed the second station without mishap! But she was not safe yet. Looming ahead of her was the ditch, running along the side of the road. If the truck lurched into. the ditch, it would probably turn over and spill its contents.   Yet, unbelievably, the truck turned again, away from the road's edge. "It was then that I realized what was happening," Gail says. "Angels were driving my truck! I had nothing to fear, because I was in the hands of the messengers from God." Tommy's rig loomed in front of her now, the final obstacle on what was becoming a miracle journey. "Lord," Gail prayed, "stop me-now!" The truck came to a complete stop, just two feet from Tommy's bumper. In shock, Gail climbed out of her cab and knelt on the ground in thanks. Then, as she looked up, she gasped. Angels, angels all around her. "They emerged from my truck and came closer to where I was kneeling. I could only see their shadows, but they were the most beautiful beings." She felt as if the whole of heaven was there, surrounding everyone for miles around. Bits of Psalm 23 came to her mind from an earlier time: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For the first time in years, she praised the Lord.   Gradually, she realized that she was not the only one kneeling on the side of the two-lane highway. "At least fifty people had assembled there, gas-station customers and the children from the school bus, all kneeling and praying, and Tommy was right beside me, praying louder than anyone. Tommy had never believed in God-not until that day." The entire group, strangers to one another, sang in thanksgiving. It was an amazing moment, one that would be difficult to explain later to those who hadn't been there to witness it. Gradually and quietly, people got up, drifted to their cars and drove off, some still dazed. Gail, Tommy, and the little girl from the school bus were the last at the scene. "I noticed that the girl was staring at my truck cab and waving," Gail says. "I guessed that she was still seeing the angels." Gail put her arm around the child and walked with her back to the bus. The driver had come out to look for her. "That was the finest piece of driving I ever saw!" he said to Gail. The child knew better. "It was the angels! Everyone knows they're the best drivers in the whole world!" Angelic appearances are not usually charted on a truck driver's log when a run has ended. But this event is written in Gail's heart, where she can remember it at will. She knows now that although we forget about God, he will never forget about us. She praises him daily, and gives thanks.