Up front: I believe in Angels and believe the Lord will send them to his children as protectors and as helpers.
There have been too many instances in my life where coincidence or sheer luck cannot explain the protection or help I have received. This is especially true as I have travelled through the third world.
As I began this trip, Wendy – my daughter – posted on her Facebook page asking all her friends to send Angels to her father as protection on my trip.
Time and again as we have been at wits end on how to navigate through a city, someone has approached us and in very good English asked if we needed help. They proceeded to direct us in the way we needed to go.
Nine years ago during a motorcycle trip to Panama and back, my riding companion and I arrived in Chepo Panama as dark was setting in. We were looking for a hotel and were told by a gentleman whom approached us on a dead end street that there was no hotel in the town. He offered to put us up in his cabin for the night. Very reluctantly we accepted. The gentleman was Eric Galbraith and he was a retired US Army civilian. When we told him of our next day’s plan to ride to the edge of the Darien Gap, he told us we should not do that because of recent bandit activity on the road we planned to travel. We took his advice and he offered to escort us back to Panama City and to provide us a tour of the Miraflores locks on the Panama Canal. As a result of his unexpected kindness, we established a hard friendship that has endured.
On this trip, we wanted to visit Eric as we passed through Panama. Even though we had his phone number and address, we did not have a clue on how to locate his home in a city of 1.5 million. Our GPS maps were very vague for this part of the world. I called Eric when we crossed the border into Panama and told him about what day we would arrive in Panama City. He told us his home district and asked if we had ever heard of the “Blue Goose.” I told him we had not. He stated that it was a house of ill repute where one could buy ladies, and that he lived nearby.
We left the northern city of David Panama early on the day we told Eric we would arrive in Panama City. We wanted to arrive in the city early to provide time to try and locate Eric’s home. At a mid-morning break, Roger’s bike failed to crank. We spent an hour that we thought we could ill afford going through various checks of safety switches on his bike. This included disconnecting the clutch lock out switch, and splicing into the side-stand safety switch to check the circuit. After several attempts at starting, Roger noticed that he had accidently turn off the engine kill switch when he had stopped for the break. This is something that he normally does not do.
On the road and running late, we stopped at the first convenience store in Panama City after crossing the Bridge of the Americas. Roger went into the store to buy some drinks. While he was in the store, I approached a group of workmen and asked them if they knew the address Eric had given me. Even though none of them spoke English, they indicated to me that the Abajo District where Eric lived was bad. They indicated for me to wait, and one of them went into the store and brought out their friend and workmate. The gentleman they brought out was a giant and spoke English. He introduced himself as Mack, just like the truck – he was nearly as big. I asked him if he could give us directions to the Abajo District and that if he had heard of the “Blue Goose.” He corrected me by telling me it was the “Gruta Azul” – Spanish for Blue Goose- and that it was not a safe place nor was the Abajo District a place we should visit. I told him I had a friend that lived on 3rd Avenue in that district and that I intended to visit him. Mack told us that he lived on 5th Avenue in the Abajo District. He told his workmates to go home without him because he was hiring a taxi to take him home and more importantly to escort us to the “Blue Goose.” Thankfully, the taxi driver took mercy on us and took it easy transitioning the city through its maze of streets. True to Mack’s promise, he delivered us to the front door of the “Gruta Azul.” He then questioned our sanity again for wanting to come to the Abajo district and wanted to know if we really knew this friend of ours that Mack thought was meeting us for ladies at the “Gruta Azul.” I finally got Mack to understand that we were not meeting Eric for a night of ladies entertainment, but that Eric had given me the name of the Blue Goose as a reference point to get near his house. Mack used his cell phone to call Eric and vet him to make sure it was okay for us to go there. After the phone conversation, Mack directed the taxi driver to Eric’s house. Mack still would not let us out of his care until he met and spoke with our friend Eric.
There have been too many instances in my life where coincidence or sheer luck cannot explain the protection or help I have received. This is especially true as I have travelled through the third world.
As I began this trip, Wendy – my daughter – posted on her Facebook page asking all her friends to send Angels to her father as protection on my trip.
Time and again as we have been at wits end on how to navigate through a city, someone has approached us and in very good English asked if we needed help. They proceeded to direct us in the way we needed to go.
Nine years ago during a motorcycle trip to Panama and back, my riding companion and I arrived in Chepo Panama as dark was setting in. We were looking for a hotel and were told by a gentleman whom approached us on a dead end street that there was no hotel in the town. He offered to put us up in his cabin for the night. Very reluctantly we accepted. The gentleman was Eric Galbraith and he was a retired US Army civilian. When we told him of our next day’s plan to ride to the edge of the Darien Gap, he told us we should not do that because of recent bandit activity on the road we planned to travel. We took his advice and he offered to escort us back to Panama City and to provide us a tour of the Miraflores locks on the Panama Canal. As a result of his unexpected kindness, we established a hard friendship that has endured.
On this trip, we wanted to visit Eric as we passed through Panama. Even though we had his phone number and address, we did not have a clue on how to locate his home in a city of 1.5 million. Our GPS maps were very vague for this part of the world. I called Eric when we crossed the border into Panama and told him about what day we would arrive in Panama City. He told us his home district and asked if we had ever heard of the “Blue Goose.” I told him we had not. He stated that it was a house of ill repute where one could buy ladies, and that he lived nearby.
We left the northern city of David Panama early on the day we told Eric we would arrive in Panama City. We wanted to arrive in the city early to provide time to try and locate Eric’s home. At a mid-morning break, Roger’s bike failed to crank. We spent an hour that we thought we could ill afford going through various checks of safety switches on his bike. This included disconnecting the clutch lock out switch, and splicing into the side-stand safety switch to check the circuit. After several attempts at starting, Roger noticed that he had accidently turn off the engine kill switch when he had stopped for the break. This is something that he normally does not do.
On the road and running late, we stopped at the first convenience store in Panama City after crossing the Bridge of the Americas. Roger went into the store to buy some drinks. While he was in the store, I approached a group of workmen and asked them if they knew the address Eric had given me. Even though none of them spoke English, they indicated to me that the Abajo District where Eric lived was bad. They indicated for me to wait, and one of them went into the store and brought out their friend and workmate. The gentleman they brought out was a giant and spoke English. He introduced himself as Mack, just like the truck – he was nearly as big. I asked him if he could give us directions to the Abajo District and that if he had heard of the “Blue Goose.” He corrected me by telling me it was the “Gruta Azul” – Spanish for Blue Goose- and that it was not a safe place nor was the Abajo District a place we should visit. I told him I had a friend that lived on 3rd Avenue in that district and that I intended to visit him. Mack told us that he lived on 5th Avenue in the Abajo District. He told his workmates to go home without him because he was hiring a taxi to take him home and more importantly to escort us to the “Blue Goose.” Thankfully, the taxi driver took mercy on us and took it easy transitioning the city through its maze of streets. True to Mack’s promise, he delivered us to the front door of the “Gruta Azul.” He then questioned our sanity again for wanting to come to the Abajo district and wanted to know if we really knew this friend of ours that Mack thought was meeting us for ladies at the “Gruta Azul.” I finally got Mack to understand that we were not meeting Eric for a night of ladies entertainment, but that Eric had given me the name of the Blue Goose as a reference point to get near his house. Mack used his cell phone to call Eric and vet him to make sure it was okay for us to go there. After the phone conversation, Mack directed the taxi driver to Eric’s house. Mack still would not let us out of his care until he met and spoke with our friend Eric.
Even though we were only going to visit for a short while, our friend Eric insisted we spend the night. We went to dinner together and to breakfast the next morning. Eric had to leave the city for that day, but he insisted we take the keys to his house and remain for another day. He kindly refused as we had to get on the road.
Sometimes we do not understand the Lord’s timing, but he has it perfect. How did we know the hour’s delay working on Roger’s bike would put us directly in the care of Mack? What are the chances that this chance meeting of Mack would be someone who lived two streets over from our friend Eric?
While in Peru, I became terribly ill. We had to delay one day’s riding as was in bed all day. I was suffering from diarrhea, extremely high body temperature and occasional chills. I was self-medicating, but not much was happening in the way of improvement. The second day, I thought I felt like riding, but at the end of the day I was almost too weak to continue. I had not eaten in three days, and was on the verge of being distraught. I thought of my friend Lori Elrod. Lori is a nurse at the Huntsville Hospital. She is one of the most caring persons I know. For more on Lori please read this news article at this link http://blog.al.com/breaking/2010/10/cancer_survivor_lori_elrod_say.html. I decided to email Lori and tell her my symptoms and what medication I was taking. I really did not feel like typing the email, but I knew I had to do it. At the end of the email, I told Lori I needed an Angel and that she was then one I was calling on. I did not know when Lori would receive the email, but within the hour after sending the email I began feeling better. I did not receive Lori’s response to until the next morning, and by then I was much better except for all the fever blisters I had. Lori’s angelic healing touch had spanned time and distance to provide me protection and healing.
I know this has been long-winded, but I wanted my followers to know about some of my encounters with Angels. I pray you will have Angels protecting you as you go through life.Gary
Most definitely you had an angel, there. The Blue Goose (when I was stationed in Panama 1984-87) was not a nice place. That statement is me being very kind to it, too.
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