He had been driving for hours, the highway a ribbon of dark asphalt and truck lights. When the exit sign appeared, he reached for the blinker. Before his hand could tap the stalk, he heard it: “Do not turn off here.” The words were so clear his fingers froze.

He felt silly arguing with a voice in his head, but he kept going. Minutes later flashing lights filled his mirrors. Up ahead the exit he almost took was blocked by a fresh accident. He pulled to the shoulder and sat with his hazard lights on, realizing the warning may have saved him or someone else.

He will tell you he is not mystical. Yet he cannot ignore that the sentence arrived at the exact moment he needed it. It was protective, specific, and firm without sounding harsh. It felt like a shepherd guiding him in the night.

“One sentence kept me moving, and it was the safest drive I have ever finished.”

He still drives that route for work. Every time he passes that exit, he whispers thanks. He believes Jesus spoke to him in the hum of tires and radio static, reminding him that God watches the small turns as much as the big ones.