Psalm 34:7 says, "The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear Him, and delivereth him."  When we are in need of protection, we have help.  Read on. In 1991, my wife and I took our Olds Starfire (which we affectionately called 'Ol Blue) and made a trip to the State of Maryland.  We had a fine drive getting there.  Our return trip was a little different. Just south of Roanoke, Va., we started to hear a rattling sound coming from the motor.  Several times I had tried to figure out what the problem was, but to no avail.  Since we were living on a very limited income we were unable to afford paying a mechanic, should the problem get rather involved.  Needlessly, to say we pressed on prayerfully. After passing Bristol, Tenn., we suffered a flat tire.  This was no big deal so we unloaded the back, removed the spare tire, changed tires.  After putting the flat tire into the car, I reloaded the suitcases and resumed on our way with our little rattle as a persistent as ever. As we approached Knoxville, TN., it was getting to be about 3 a.m. and very dark.  I thought I was seeing things when I noticed the road ahead of us getting dark.  I realized that my lights were going dim.  My gauges indicated that my battery was quickly going dead. Turning off my lights, I exited on the first ramp I found, and in the dim light of street lamps, I drove up the street and into a gas station.  Of course, it was closed.  I called an associate pastor from our home church in Mountain Home, AR. who in turn contacted a minister in the Knoxville area. About 9 a.m., two men arrived and charged my battery and led me to a service station that was open.  Upon inspecting the system, they discovered that the battery wire to the alternator was broken deep inside the plastic plug at the alternator. The mechanic said that he never saw that happen before.  Out where the wire enters the plug, but not down inside as this one was. After the wire was fixed, I paid the attendant, thanked the two men and started out again.  As we approached the first gas station, I felt it wise to get our flat fixed.  We stopped in at the station. Here we unloaded the luggage, took the tire out of the car, and had it fixed.  The man at the station wouldn't change the tire so I had to do it.  I wanted the best on the car so the rest of the trip would be safer. After putting the spare back into the car I reloaded the suitcases, then finally, we were able to proceed on our way toward Nashville.  Again, we noticed the rattle. Halfway to Nashville, we passed a truck on the other side.  A car had apparently been driven under the trailer.  I was getting a bad feeling about this return trip, though I knew that God had His eye on us. About five miles from Nashville we had another flat.  I couldn't believe it.  The same tire.  I thought to myself, "It is only flat on the bottom. As I went through the ritual of unloading, changing and loading, I felt the car shudder as each big truck passed.  Finally everything was done, we were on our way and we could still hear the persistent chattering and I still didn't know what that was." As we drove into mid-town Nashville, and we admired the beautiful city skyline on our right, I realized that our engine rattle, which had been with us for about 500 miles, was getting much louder. When we approached the Laffeyette Street on ramp, the car stalled.  I drifted it to the ramp and backed it down the grade to Laffeyette Street. We got out of the car and walked to a telephone where I called the Associate Pastor again.  He told me that he would do what he could and call me back. A while later the phone rang.  When I answered it he told me that there were plenty of churches in Nashville, but it seemed that no one wanted to help.  Then he told me to stay by the phone and he would keep trying. After a few minutes a man called from a little church about 12-15 miles (I think) south of Nashville. He told me that he was sending two young men out to get us. Shortly after, the associate called and repeated the good news.  There was someone on the way.  Again I thanked him for his help and sat with Teresa in front of a vacant store, and waited. Neither our minister now I could figure why nearby churches would not help.  We wondered why they would neglect the body of Christ.  To me, it was like getting a broken leg and not receiving medical attention.  It would be just ignoring the injury. Now, let me set up the picture.  There was the overpass and on-ramp where my car was parked.  Next to the ramp was a liquor store where people were doing their business.  Most appeared to be street people dressed in tattered clothes, unshaven and unkempt hair.  They would leave with their brown bag, and occasionally tipping up the paper sack for a drink.  Then there was a vacant store-front, where we were sitting,and a phone booth at the other end of a parking lot.  This was all located by an "X" shaped intersection where the traffic was rather heavy.  The buildings around the intersection were old, some of which were very run down. Teresa had never experienced anything like this before.  She had never been in the city in this situation before.  She had come from Mountain Home, AR. which was only a small town.  The nearest city was two hours away.  I knew that she was very nervous and fear was trying to set in. I prayed silently for God's protection for, I too knew that this was not a good situation. Knowing that help was on the way, we tried to relax, sitting on the curb at the store-front while we watched the world go by. As we waited, Teresa and I became concerned by what was taking place.  It seemed that there were those who realized that we were here stranded.  We noticed that there were several cars with young black men that would drive by slowly and stare at us.  Five or ten minutes would pass when they would drive by again.  This continued for some time. I have absolutely no problem racially.  I love all people.  They are all souls needing salvation.  Though I realize that God loves them and that Christ died for them as well as anybody else.  I also knew that these men were not wanting to hear about that. Later, these men drove their cars onto the parking lot where they gathered around the phone boot about eighty feet from us.  There were twelve to fifteen of them.  Though they were gathered around the telephone booth, I sensed that they were not using it. I could see that Teresa was quite uncomfortable, so I didn't tell her about what I thought at the time.  I didn't want to frighten her.  I put my arm around her and reassured her that God knew that we were there.  I stressed that He had everything in control though we couldn't understand, at the time, why He didn't allow us to stop in a better environment. I remained secure that God would hold to His promise, though these young men watched us.  It looked like they were planning a strategy...  but a strategy for what? These men stood there watching us for about fifteen minutes.  They finally drove off for no reason I was aware of at the time. When our young rescuers arrived, they told us to quickly get into the vehicle.  They would send a wrecker to get the car.  When I asked if it would be alright, they told me that it should be OK...  but it sounded rather doubtful to me. About two hours after we arrived at the church, our car was brought into the parking lot.  I was somewhat amazed to find that it was completely intact. What was my concern?  Though my Starfire was one of the cheapest cars GM ever built, Ol' Blue had been customized.  The interior had been totally customized.  There were chrome mag wheels, air shocks, and rally stripes.  Inside, there was an AM/FM Stereo tape deck, and a rather expensive CB radio.  In the secluded area where it was located (between the overpass and the liqueur store), it could very easily have been stripped clean. The associate pastor payed the towing bill.  Later, he said we were to repay him only if we the leading of the Lord to do so. We were, by this time running low on our financial reserve.  We couldn't afford to pay for it.  We had placed it all into God's hands many hours before. We felt the Love of God working through the congregation of that little church.  They rallied around us, and for us.  We were given food to eat that evening and places to sleep. We attended the church services the next morning which we enjoyed thoroughly.  We could see that they had a true and sincere love for God and they could worship in freedom and liberty. After the morning service, a woman came to us and invited us to lunch where she would ask her husband, who was apparently a mechanic, to look at the car. Now, don't get excited about us planning to do work on the Lord's Day.  Remember Luke 14:5.  My ox fell into a ditch.  We had to get it out so we could continue on our way.  My ox was Ol' Blue.  The ditch was the disrepair which the car was in and we had to fix it, or get it out. During lunch, she and her husband talked with us about the racial unrest and dangers in the area where we had broken down.  They informed us that particular area of town was extremely dangerous for whites.  There are many situation arising from discrimination and prejudice. As they told us of the racial turmoil in that area we all agreed that we were very blessed to have gone through what we had and still be in good health. At that same time we all seemed to wonder why those men attack us.  Almost simultaneously, we came to the same conclusion.  Those men were probably not watching just a man and a woman, but also, a band of angels who were around us.  When we left, they apparently guarded the car, too, since Ol' Blue was untouched. After lunch, we drove to the church to see what might be wrong with Ol' Blue;  my ox. After checking various things, we opened the distributor cap.  When the cap was lifted, the rotor fell out.  We looked for the screws that were to hold the rotor in place but there were none to be found. The rotor was so extremely worn that it should never have worked at all, let alone get us nearly 500 miles from Roanoke to Nashville. The small tab on top of the rotor was a quarter inch shorter than it should have been.  The underside that fits over the distributor shaft had nearly a quarter inch of play.  This was clearly our noise. We rode to an auto parts store which happened to be open.  We purchased a new rotor and condenser and our new friends would not allow us to pay for them.  As we were leaving that evening, this beautiful couple handed us some cash.  The Lord had apparently allowed them to realize our financial plight.  Without this assistance, we would never have made it back to Mountain Home. I thank and praise God for His protecting band of angels which He promises to have encamped about us.  I appreciate the many caring people who took care of us and provided for us.  These people were true believers.  They were showing true love.  We were in need and they provided.  They did this not just for us, but to Christ, also (Matthew 25:34-40).