He stood at the side of the road, and stumbled when I drove by.
After six years of passing this same spot in my commute – most of it in the middle of the night – seeing a pedestrian before dawn along this roadway was completely out of place. He was alone. There was no car nearby, at least no car that looked out of place or unfamiliar. He stood still, with something in his hand that I couldn’t identify. The way he carried himself didn’t give the impression of criminal activity, because it seems to me he would have concealed himself when I drove near. Instead, I felt like I was witnessing mental illness or intoxication. To pass someone standing along a deserted road in these circumstances at 3:40am is not only unexpected, but downright uncomfortable. Not knowing what kind of help he might need, if any at all, I did the only thing I knew was appropriate: I pulled to the roadside a half mile away and called 911.
I got to this point because of The Nudge.
Something told me to walk out the door earlier than normal this morning, and wasn’t until I saw his that I understood why, Leaving for work early gave me the chance to cross paths with someone who might be in distress. It also gave me ample time to pull over and tell someone who had the authority to help him. In my world, this is an example of God nudging me quietly in a direction that I didn’t expect, because He know I’m needed somewhere at a certain time. This isn’t the first instance; I’ve seen it before and, as I get older, I’ve learned to trust The Nudge more and more.
I will probably never know the outcome of this bizarre situation, but I know I did the right thing.