After church, a man asks if I’ll drive him home. “Bad leg. Can’t walk.” I ask where he lives. “We got to go over by the highway.” We drive. Then he tells me to get on the highway. At 70 miles an hour he keeps saying, “Almost there … a little farther … keep going …” I know I’ve been conned but I drive on. Finally, in Lodi, 62 miles from church, he’s home. He says, “Thanks!” and walks off. Still, I feel pretty good about all of it. As I see him walk away, his leg is completely healed … it’s a miracle!