Alone and Afraid in Phoenix

Alone and Afraid in Phoenix

Alone and Afraid in Phoenix

When God gives us “divine appointments,” they are unmistakable. They usually challenge us to step out of our comfort zone and into His hands of grace.

Here’s how He recently reached out to a “missing person” and to me as well:

I combine my love of walking and my love of architecture and construction with routes that feature the newest construction here in metro Phoenix. This past Wednesday took me to the Central and Indian School Road area. It ended up being a divine appointment, God putting me in the right place at the right time.

As I was getting ready to cross the street, a very thin young homeless person approached me, or at least I assumed he was homeless. Somehow that didn’t add up. He had on nice clothes and yet had mud on his hands and shoes. I immediately realized he was way too young to be living on the streets.

He asked me if I knew where the BNO bank was and with his dirty hand pulled a muddy rolled-up check out of his pocket. He handed me the check; I unrolled it and saw that it was from a school in the valley.

It was for $40 and dated November 1st. His name was Quincy.

Immediately the Holy Spirit began to speak to me about this kid and his circumstances, so I began to ask him some questions. He seemed very weak… he limped, and I knew it was too far for him to walk to that bank’s location.

I was about four blocks from my car, but it was still closer than the bank location. I asked Quincy if he had any identification on himself, and he said that he didn’t. Realizing that he would not be able to cash the check, I pulled $6 out of my pocket because I knew that he was hungry.

As I handed him the money, he fell into my arms weeping. He was so appreciative at this very small gesture. I knew I needed to understand his circumstances. I began to ask him questions so that I could better know how to help him.

I knew he needed food as soon as possible, and so we headed to a pizza place near my car. He was very, very thin. 

The story he began to share was heartbreaking.

Born to a drug addict mother, Quincy was raised by his dad until the age of five. His dad died from a drug overdose, and since his mother had lost custody, he went to live with his grandparents in Show Low, Arizona.  He spoke very fondly of his grandfather and grandmother. He told me how his grandfather taught him how to hunt and fish; his grandmother was so good to him as well. As he spoke, I realized he had a developmental challenge of some sort, and I assumed that possibly it was from being born to a mother who is addicted to drugs. He had the maturity level of a nine-year-old kid even though he was 16. There was a sweetness and an innocence to his demeanor.

Quincy spoke fondly of his grandparents taking him to church and Sunday School every Sunday, and he said that he believed in Jesus. He asked me if we would we be able to see Jesus when we got to heaven, and he smiled a sweet smile.

His story continued with his grandfather dying from cancer and then his grandmother dying from breast cancer. Quincy was then put into the foster system about four years ago. He was in several group homes and ran away from one because the kids were abusing him, and I could see how easy that would happen because he would be an easy target. Imagine this kid trying to survive on the street. There are so many evil people who would take advantage of him.

Then he shared with me that his current foster parent, a female, got angry at him because he wasn’t cleaning the house well enough; she picked him up and threw him out the back door and onto the concrete. He hurt his back and was bruised. I cannot verify most of his story. But he had blisters on his feet.

This kid said that he walked from Buckeye all the way to Central Phoenix, which could have been as much as 30 miles. Quincy had no money, no ID, nothing but that little check. He said he spent the night in a house that was under construction and that his clothes got wet from going across the fields because he was afraid the police would arrest him.

I could barely say anything to him…on the inside, I was weeping for this kid. I got him a good pizza, and he ate the whole thing. While he was eating, I called a dear friend to see if he could help me find out who could take him, other than the police.

I discovered there is a national organization called Safe Place where children can be dropped off to a QT filling station and some other locations; the Safe Place representatives will come and pick up the children.

I would have adopted Quincy on the spot, but of course that was impossible. Because of his minor status, I knew he needed to get back into the system.

I drove him to the nearest QT gas station and found the manager. The process of finding someone to come and get this teenager took over an hour.

There were calls back and forth.

I’m assuming they were able to verify he was in the foster system. While we waited, we had an enjoyable time talking about his love of hunting and fishing. He said he was an outdoors guy.

Finally, two ladies from the nonprofit organization came over and took him away to a safe house that night—at least that’s what I hope and pray they did. The teen said he had a new case manager who was in Casa Grande, Arizona.

He didn’t know what her name was. He also said he had an aunt who lived in Phoenix, but she is a long-haul truck driver and was on the East Coast.

Quincy thanked me over and over again for being kind to him. I felt an extraordinary presence of God the whole time, and I felt as if he were a very special child to God Almighty.

I wept for hours and barely slept that night thinking about how many children there are in his circumstances.

Quincy could have been your child.

I’ve literally pleaded and begged with God to intervene in his life and get him into a foster home that would be safe and nurturing. Quincy said that when he turns 18, they will help him find a job and move him into a group home for disabled adults.

When Quincy left, he gave me a hug, and I told him that I would see him in heaven—I believe that with all of my heart. In the state of Arizona, there are 14,000 kids in the foster system and only 5,000 families hosting them.

I’m sure there aren’t enough caseworkers to keep up with all of these kids. In 2020, they lost 300 children in the system. I pray that God will help me find a way to volunteer and help these kids.

I also pray that God will find a way for me to help Quincy again. I’ve been learning more about the system.

If you think about it, pray for Quincy. And don’t miss those “divine appointments” when God hands them to you—you don’t want to miss the blessings He will give to others and to you.

 

Alone and Afraid in Phoenix


Go here for more articles Two Measures Foolish Blogs

Follow Us On Facebook

Two Measures Foolish: Foolish to God for we sin – Foolish to the world for the cross.

From Death to Healing

From Death to Healing

From Death to Healing

The following two articles were written by a mother whose son had committed suicide.

The first was written over thirty years ago, shortly after her son took his life.

She wrote the first on the advice of her counselor at the time, to help her heal from this horrific event in her and her husband’s life.

The second she wrote just a short time ago.

It was interesting to see how her perspective did or did not change over the last thirty years.


 

Guest Blog By Carole France

 

“My dearest John,

I miss you.

I long to hear your voice and to share days, hours or even minutes with you.

The love I have for you is still in my heart and I am unable to express it to any other human being.

It is yours alone.

When you were born your dad was so happy that he had a son.

He announced that he had a fishing buddy.

You would carry on his name.

I will always treasure the night that you and I spent together when you were a tiny baby.

You brought me joy your entire life from just being you.

You were intelligent, handsome, fun, funny, interested in learning, deep, complicated, challenging, caring, cautions, sometimes fearful, yet you were also brave and independent.

Little did I know how unprepared I was to raise you children and I know I made mistakes that hurt you.

I know the anger and frustration I saw in you as a teenager was really the disappointment you felt over not having the close family you desired.

All that anger in you worried me.

What you needed was our love, support, time, understanding, patience, and guidance.

You needed us to tell you that God knows and loves you beyond any happening ever in life.

He made you, understands you, and is committed to you – regardless of your struggles.

Instead, though, your dad and I lectured to try and get you to do what we wanted you to do.

I want you to know how sorry I am that you missed out on the love and nurturing that you deserved.

My heart will ache always for what I was not able to give you.

You were dealing with painful emotions and circumstances beyond what a teen should have to face.

They obviously consumed you and you felt powerless to fix it.

I wish I could have explained to you that life is like a book… each chapter is different from the other.

When your young and troubled it may seem like the chapter you are experiencing is the only one and that nothing will ever change.

The truth is that 1,3,5 years down the road our relationships, circumstance, and events are all different.

Of course, we always have stress in our lives, but you would have had more life experiences, more answers of your own from which to draw, and more people in your life to help support you when you asked.

John, when you made the choice to end your own life, I blamed myself, but I will not accept that responsibility anymore.

Even though I will forever feel badly about what you did, it was you who made the choice to kill yourself.

There are so many other choices you could have made, and I know we could have gotten through it together.

But I understand that on that day it was just too much.

You took yourself away from everyone who loves you.

Your decision brought deep and lasting pain to many, many people.

If you were here today all our lives would be more complete.

We would still have problems to deal with, but we would face them together.

I can’t help but wonder who you would have grown up to be, who you would have married and what the voices of your children would have sounded like calling me “Grandma”.

I will always wish that you would have talked to me and asked for my opinion on your leaving.

I would have begged and pleaded with you to stay!

You matter!

I truly and fully love and miss you and I want you to be here,

Mom”

A portrait of John from his high school yearbook.

Thirty Years Later

“A few weeks ago, I was asked to write a follow-up some thirty years later to my message expressed to my son John shortly after his death.

Since we as a family talk about John often I wasn’t prepared for the return of painful emotions this would bring.

My thoughts and feelings held the same raw loss and loneliness experienced those first hours, days, months and years so long ago.

The difference this time was that I knew what to do.

After years of crying out to my Savior, Jesus, I realized He had taught me to go to His word for honesty, truth, comfort, and the healing He has offered me over these years.

Has it been easy?

NO!!!

But it has been REAL!

It has been the most helpful help offered in navigating the intense grief and emptiness in losing one’s precious child in such a horrific way.

I’ve learned that God really is Who He says He is and that He makes good on all His promises made in His Bible.”

 

From Death to Healing

 


 

Go here for information and help on Suicide Prevention

Go here for more articles Two Measures Foolish Blogs

 

Follow Us On Facebook

Two Measures Foolish: Foolish to God for we sin – Foolish to the world for the cross.

By the Grace of God I’ve Tried to Make the Best Of It

By the Grace of God I’ve Tried to Make the Best Of It

By the Grace of God I’ve Tried to Make the Best Of It

 

“Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted.” — Psalms 25:16

 

Due to various childhood trauma and circumstances, and the unique way I responded to them, I (and I’m not going to say it was some cruel trick or predestination of God) my 66 years of life have predominantly been of longing, loneliness and affliction. 

It is what it is and by the grace of God I’ve tried to make the best of it, like a person with a handicap. I did blame God from the very beginning, even as young boy at the age of 5, but over the years realized that He, My heavenly Father, was not to blame.

I can’t blame anyone for my responses to being wronged here on earth.

They are my free will choice. 

So, loneliness is feeling unhappy about being socially isolated or for some, the false perception of not being loved. Perhaps their needs, expectations or extra capacities disappoint or let them down.

Almost any woman in the world can relate to the letdown of their idea of a Prince Charming and the actual relationship in the flesh.

Perhaps some of the loneliest people are in a loveless marriage?

For me, I’ve identified that I want love, perhaps a perfect relationship.

Why not?

Who wants a mediocrity?

I think the Bible defines the ultimate, perfect relationship as that between God the Father and God the Son; perfect love, perfect harmony and perfect union from eternity past, broken only once on the cross when Christ took my sin upon Himself, my sin nature.

What Are the Benefits of Being Grateful?

It seems engrained in humans to know and understand a concept of a higher eternal laws.

Even children respond to “happily ever after” with that rare, unique union and love of their one and only prince or princess.

The idea is that they will never be alone ever again.

There are a lot of things associated with loneliness but there is a loneliness that, at the core, is an unmet or unrealized or partially realized or undeveloped need.

It can be a need for the idea of perfect love, intimacy, unity, harmony of spirit, commonality, total acceptance, approval, understanding, closeness affection or expressions of love in everyday things. 

It’s the communication of love or on many levels, the giving of one’s self. The trust, risk, the enjoyment of that person, and if you are lucky, the whole person. 

You may benefit from their intelligence, creativity, attributes, talents, personality, temperament and other things.

The degree that they choose to love you, their pursuit,  the passion, the commitment,  the exclusivity,  self-sacrifice and their ability to believe in and accept the live offered is all a part of the thing that erases loneliness. 

So, I believe that with each human there is a soul loneliness, a longing for God, a longing to be one with your Creator.

As a Christian I believe that when I am in heaven with Christ that finally my loneliness will be erased for all eternity.

 

Check out our more of our articles here Two Measures Foolish Blogs

 

By the Grace of God I’ve Tried to Make the Best Of It

Follow Us On Facebook

Two Measures Foolish: Foolish to God for we sin – Foolish to the world for the cross.

Casting My Dice with Jesus

Casting My Dice with Jesus

Casting My Dice with Jesus

This may sound a bit corny, but you only have one chance at eternal love.

You know that any human that you love will eventually die, but the only other option that I have seen offered by anyone or anything is an Eternal God who loves you, who created you and who wants to have a relationship with you for the rest of eternity.

That is your only good option. All other options are finite and temporary. I believe that Jesus Christ took on the form of a finite human man so that he could unite us to the possibility of infinite love in Him.

Imagine having a relationship that only got better and better and better for the rest of eternity.

I’m casting my dice with Jesus.

I’m putting all my eggs in one basket.

I am willing to choose Jesus.

It’s like winning the ultimate lottery and Jesus’s work, obedience and sacrifice made it possible.

When they had crucified him, they divided up His clothes by casting lots.

Check us out, we have written blogs all over the spectrum from the Christian Perspective and Apologetics

Follow Us On Facebook

Two Measures Foolish: Foolish to God for we sin – Foolish to the world for the cross.

A Matter of Timing

A Matter of Timing

A Matter of Timing 

IT was a warm late spring morning in Oregon as I sped up the Pacific Highway 5 in my VW micro bus. I was about halfway between Medford and Grants Pass on a very beautiful but lonely, desolate stretch of road when something profound occurred that I would reflect on many times in my life. It was 1982 and I had just turned thirty years old that April. How I ended up in Oregon looking for the meaning of life is another story. It is enough to say that I was divorced and had left three young boys behind in Arizona.

That is also where I had bought a used green VW bus to hold my every belonging I owned and headed for the great North West via California. I ended up discovering and attending a small country church in Applegate, Oregon that was very non-denominational and very Protestant.

For someone like me who was raised a Catholic, it almost felt sacrilegious in a way, like I was entering the house of the enemy. It was at this church that I had learned about The Food Bank Outreach Center north of Applegate in a town called Grants Pass that was looking for volunteers on Saturday’s to help distribute food to those in desperate need. I decided to visit and check it out. I found that I enjoyed helping people and it took my mind off the inner turmoil and conflicts I was experiencing.

 

I looked forward to the Saturday experience…

 

… so very much not only because of the people I met and helped but for the ride to and from Grants Pass. There were only two way’s one could travel from the Applegate and both would take about 45 minutes.

One was a country ride that took me through mountain passes and into open valleys going past farms and ranches along the way. The road was like a beautiful ribbon weaving this way and that and reminded me of racing along The La Mans motor race in France. I fell in love with that ride.

The other was to backtrack to the town of Medford and then take highway 5 north. It was an OK scenic drive but not nearly as much fun, so I did not take it much at all, until, one Saturday.

A Matter of Timing

A Matter of Timing

 

I had met a girl by the name of Jan at church the Sunday before and she expressed an interest in helping out at the food bank after I filled her in about it. The catch was she lived in Medford so “would I mind picking her up on the way.” By doing that we would have to take the roundabout route I hardly ever took.

After picking up Jan I found the highway exchange and headed north climbing steadily to a higher elevation until the road flattened out on a huge plateau. I loved this stretch of the freeway because you could see for miles in all directions and view the Rouge river intersecting the highway at many points as it weaved back and forth. Middle of nowhere was an understatement. Nothing around except high prairie, sky and the lonely road we were on.

…Then it happened.

My VW bus had been a great companion up until that point taking me on many miles across the western United States without any trouble at all. At first there was a loud backfire and then she started missing and coughing with smoke belching from the rear end exhaust pipe. Fear gripped me as I pulled to shoulder of the road and rolled to a stop. I gunned the engine just a bit to see if it would clear whatever might be causing the trouble, but my green machine violently shook.

As I shut the bus down, I turned to Jan and in my best, I am not that concerned voice that came out two octaves higher than normal, “I wonder what this is all about.”

Jan turned to me looking very worried and asked “What do you think happened”

“I dunno” I answered trying to gulp in air and calm down my racing heart as I exited the driver’s side front door. “But I am going to find out”

As I reached the back of the bus, smoke was billowing out the vents on the door that sealed the engine from the elements. I opened the panel and allowed the smoke to clear and then peered inside.

Everything looked OK….except….. “what’s this” I said.

Jan looked over the car seat and said “What’s, what?”

“Strange” I said as I shook my head in disbelief. “Why is one spark plug wire no longer attached to the engine. The plug is still attached to the wire and lying next to the engine block.”

“This is just plain crazy” I said trying to get a handle on what I was looking at in the engine.

As I reached for the lose wire and plug and I discovered a very hot spark plug. My fingers seared from the intense heat that sent my whole body jerking backward. That was a dumb move I thought to myself and I stuck a couple my pinkies in my mouth as I surveyed the land around the vehicle.

As I returned to the front and climbed back into the bus, I looked at Jan and she had her closed and what appeared to be praying. When she opened her eyes, I explained to her what happened.

I then voiced my plan.

“I am going to let the engine and spark plug cool down and then try and re-attach it with the tools set I have in back”

Almost as an afterthought I said “I have no idea what caused that to happen. I have never even heard of something like this even happening before. Why would a spark plug become disconnected from the engine like that?”

Jan just shook her head, but I knew she was concerned from the look on her face. “Now what the heck are we going to do out here in the middle of now where”

I thought to myself. “Well I guess there is always a reason for everything” I uttered putting my best spiritual voice forward.

A Matter of Timing

A Matter of Timing

 

As the word “everything” barely crossed my lips, when out of nowhere came a small tapping sound on the window of the middle sliding door directly behind me. What the? I thought as I snapped my head around in the direction of the noise. I realized it was a dark figure standing on the outside looking in at me. My first reaction and thought was “all the years of training in karate is going to come in handy now”

I remembered, quickly surveying the situation and thinking what my options would be and how I would be the first line of defense for the women sitting next to me. Jan had her window open before I knew it and was poking her head out to face this dark figure.

“Jan, put your head back in the darn car” I said irritatingly as I prepared to spring sidewise between the two front seats and into the middle section of the van and then to slide the side door open.

I figured it would be faster than getting out of the front door and taking myself around the outside of the car. I was running on pure adrenaline at this point with my heart racing. I figured I had no choice but to deal with this threat head on and as quickly as possible since Jan had made herself and me so vulnerable by opening the window. What Jan said next slowed me down to a small degree and made me feel that maybe we were not facing a potential threat.

 

“Are you OK buddy. What has happened to you”

 

I heard her say as I slide the side door open and faced this figure head on. What I was looking at appeared to be a young teen age boy no older than 15 or16.

His face as well as his cloths were very dirty and around his eye’s and cheeks were big dirty smug spots. My first thought was he had spit on to a rag or something and tried to clean his face.

“Hello” I greeted him as I surveyed him up and down. I then said the only thing I could think of at the moment. “What are you doing out here?”

A million thoughts were racing through my mind at that moment as I fought to calm myself down.

“It’s a long story but the ride I had, dropped me off out here last night” He said looking first at me and then at Jan.

“Would it be possible if you could drop me off at the nearest town”

 

“Sure” I said wondering if I spoke to soon as I once again looked him over for a potential hidden weapon such as a knife, gun or bazooka. Man, do I have a suspicious mind I thought to myself.

“What is your name man” Jan piped in thrusting out her hand out through the window. “Justin” he said as he first shook Jan and then my hand. “I am John, and this is Jan” I responded.

With that short exchange of words of introduction I informed him that I did not know if “we ourselves” would be heading to the “nearest town” and it would be 45 minutes to an hour before the engine would be cool enough for me to attempt to try and re-connect the wayward spark plug to the engine.

We would find out then if my bus was going to be moving on its own power and would “he” like to have a seat in my vehicle, and we could all visit with one another until that moment of truth. Accepting my invitation, I found Justin room on the middle seat directly behind Jan and myself. I was more than curious about this young man so after explaining to him where my companion and I were headed that morning I then asked him how he ended up out in the middle of nowhere.

For the next forty-five minutes or so, Justin told us a story of a journey that had begun a little more than two and half years before. He said his relationship with his parents had deteriorated so badly that after one explosive evening he decided to run away. At the age of fourteen, he hitchhiked from Seattle, Washington and made his way south until he ended up in southern California. Not having any money and no means to support himself at such a young age he fell in with and made friends with many other children his age who were homeless in the LA area.

 

They would try and support each other…

 

…and stay in small groups for protection by sleeping under bridges or in empty buildings and gong through garbage in the back of restaurants for food and always sharing what little they had with each other. He said he was always scared and was beaten up many times by people that were older and stronger than he.

He said he eventually ended up outside of Hollywood and became a young male prostitute. He had a roof over his head most the time and ate better but he hated every moment. He stressed emphatically that he was not gay, but he had no other choice on how to support himself.

He said much of the time he just wanted to die. Eventually he said he decided to leave and make his way home but, on the day, he was to take off he was once again beaten up and what little money he had saved was taken from him.

He left anyway by hitch hiking north on the freeways and turning tricks along the way to pay for food from his rides and the truckers he met. The night before he met us, Justin said he had picked up a ride at a truck stop outside of Ashland, a town just inside the border of Oregon.

 

When he refused to perform sex…

 

…on the truck driver he was riding with, the driver cast him out of the cab of the truck in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere with only the clothes on his back. He made his way to the other side of the berm by the side of the road and curled up and cried himself to sleep.

He was jolted awake by the loud backfire and a badly sounding engine. As he peered over the edge dirt berm, there sat a green VW micro bus and me at the back with two fingers in my mouth looking around.

Man fixing hour glass

A Matter of Timing

 

I interrupted him for the first time through the course of his story and asked him when the last time he had talked with his folks and he told me he had not since leaving two and a half years ago. He wanted to and even tried twice by dialing their phone number but when someone answered he hung up because he did not know what to say. He was ashamed and disgusted with himself for all he had done and been through and really didn’t know if they wanted to even talk to him again.

It was then I realized that his mom and dad didn’t even know if he was alive or dead after all this time. I was a father myself of three young boys, so it crushed my soul when I felt the implications of what he had just said. O my God, O my God, I repeated over and over in my head. I felt like someone had punched me in the gut.

 

It was then I realized it had been over an hour…

 

…and that should have been plenty of time for the engine to have cooled down. I asked Justin if he wanted to help me so the two of us proceeded to the back of the vehicle and after about 5 minutes attached the wayward spark plug back onto a cold engine block.

As both of us climbed back in to the van, Jan spoke for the first time in over an hour by asking “If you do not mind, could we say a short prayer first before you try starting the car”

I agreed and we did so in front of Justin. Staring out the front window I took in a deep breath and turned the key. The engine fired right up and purred just like a kitten. My two passengers cheered as I sat spellbound by the implications of what just occurred. What were the odds?

As we made our way to Grants Pass in high spirits, I told Justin that I was not real good at this God thing since I had just discovered Him just a couple of months before and I was told that things really do not happen for no reason.

When we made it to the outreach center, I explained all that had happened to Roy, the leader of the organization, who then insisted on feeding Justin and giving him shower and clean clothes. Then Roy approached Justin and recommended that he give his parents a call that very moment. Justin hesitated and looked bewildered so Roy once again said it might be a good idea if he made the call for him and break the ice and see what the reception would be.

With that Justin agreed. Jan and I made our way out of the room so the two of them could have some privacy as they huddled around the phone. We watched through the window as Roy appeared to pray with Justin and then dialed the phone. I watched his face hoping that someone would pick up the phone on the other end.

 

He started talking slowly at first and then became very animated.

 

When he turned and handed the phone to Justin, I could see tears streaming down his face and Justin in turn had slumped down into a chair by the side of the desk and was just hanging on. By the looks of it he needed all the support he could get. Tears just started flowing out of this young man and I knew the same thing was happening on the other end of the phone.

With that I turned and went down the stairs and out of the building and into the allay and began crying myself. I remembered thinking it had been a very long time since I had cried that hard. Maybe since I was a kid.

After about an hour or so I returned and found Roy and He explained haltingly with tears flowing out like a sprinkler.

You know John, I think Justin’s parents had thought something really bad had happened to that boy. They told me they had gotten the police and the FBI involved with his disappearance. I really believe they had lost all hope of him returning after all this time. You should have heard them” Roy paused a moment between gasps and the continued

“I got back on the phone with his dad after they were done and could hear his mother in the background crying. They insisted on wiring me money for a bus ticket for him.”

“John” He quietly continued “I was wondering if you and Jan would mind spending the night and driving him to the bus station in the morning. I have already called for the times of departure”

 

“Are you kidding me, of course we will”  Was all I could think to say.

 

I was so stunned by the events of the last few hours I sat overwhelmed not knowing what else to do. My usual sarcastic, funny self-had completely disappeared and deserted me. “How was all this possible? How in God’s name was this all possible?” I thought as I replayed it all in my head.

I hung out with Justin that evening and then the next morning drove him to the bus stop. I could see anticipation all across his face. He was shaking. After buying his ticket and waiting for the bus to arrive that Justin, this young man of 16 and half years revealed to me that he had decided on taking his own life yesterday morning.

It was then he told me he cried out “If there is a God, and you are really there, please…. please help me.”

That is when my spark plug decided to have a mind of its own.

 

Go here for many more Interest Articles on our Blog

 

A Matter of Timing

Follow Us On Facebook