Sometimes, when it seems that things are going wrong for us: when we get stuck in traffic or when we forget to do what we want to do, there is a reason. God is watching over us. He is protecting us, and shielding us from harm.

The following story is an illustration of how God works in mysterious ways.

Every Wednesday evening at exactly 7:30 pm., the fifteen choir members of the West Side Baptist Church in Beatrice, Nebraska, would assemble in the chapel of their small church for a rehearsal before services. The choir consisted of long-time members who were dedicated, enthusiastic and punctual.

One Wednesday evening, March 1, 1950, the tranquil air of Beatrice was suddenly pierced by a loud blast. Residents rushed outdoors to see what was happening, and then watched in anguish as flames spurted out the windows of the small church. They checked the time, glancing at their watches, the clocks on their kitchen walls, the alarms on the night tables in their bedrooms. It was 7:40 pm.

Grasps, wails, and shrieks filled the air as the townspeople raced towards the church. The volunteer firemen who had preceded them by a few minutes shook their heads mournfully as they arrived. In just seconds, the church had been totally consumed by flames.

“It probably was a gas explosion,” one of the firemen said. “It happened too fast. None of the choir members could have gotten out in time. I’m sorry. It doesn’t look like there are any survivors at all.”

Everyone reacted differently. Some people bowed their heads and turned away in silence, grief-stricken. A few women crumpled onto the charred grass. Others collapsed into one another’s arms and emitted heartrending sobs.

Paralyzed by shock, people didn’t seem to notice the sudden convergence of a several automobiles pulling into the church’s parking lot at the same time. No one seemed to observe the fifteen, red- frocked figures emerging from the cars and running towards the church. They had all been late in getting to the Church on time. A whole series of mishaps befell the choir that evening: a child needing special care, an unexpected visit from a relative that morning, a young girl catching up on her homework, an annoying traffic jam, a little dog taken sick, the pianist, Marilyn, having overslept, and a couple who couldn’t get their car started.

“Hey, what happened?” shouted a familiar-sounding alto voice, shattering the silence that had fallen over the mourners.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” chimed in another well-known voice, a mellifluous soprano.

“My God, the church is in ruins!” shouted an unforgettable baritone.

In wonder, astonishment, and dazed disbelief, the townspeople gazed at the miraculous sight of all the choir members, vital and alive, streaming in their direction.

For the first time in twelve years of ongoing choir practice, every single member of the choir- for separate, different, and unconnected reasons, had come late, and had their lives miraculously spared.

God works in mysterious ways.