Meditation at the road-side

I’ve spent too much time in the last few weeks standing at the side of the road. It’s a natural hazard of driving here that there will be breakdowns, because despite the strength of the Toyota Hilux pickup, it gets some fairly rough treatment and a very constant shaking even on “good” roads. Some of the roadside waiting is at our local garage, which often does repairs in the open air. In December I held an umbrella over the young mechanic while he changed the brake pads during a downpour.
Reflecting back over that month, we have been very fortunate in the location of these breakdowns. In Uganda, a wheel actually fell off, but at very low speed and in front of a hospital near our friends’ house and within easy reach of a garage with a strong tow truck and welding capability. Another time a trip to Kigali was thwarted by 3 simultaneous problems, but all before we left Kamembe town. We were able to get a replacement vehicle on that occasion. Finally, we had a fan belt problem on our way home one night, but managed to limp to a nearby trading station and get some wire and temporary repairs.

I’m reluctant to use the word “miracle” in this context, although the first breakdown in particular felt like that. We travel quite long distances, sometimes through remote forests without a phone signal, yet all our breakdowns have been easily resolved. It reminds me of God’s constant and detailed care for us, of the faithful support of a praying community, of how privileged we are and of the mystery of faith.
I can't answer the question why our breakdowns have been "fortunate" in the middle of a country which has all kinds of physical, emotional and spiritual suffering. Even for me to ask it at this point seems like an intrusion into something holy. I sense a change here - sometimes intellectual questions like that which can seem so important at home become much less important in context here.