I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, not sure what had stirred me. My mind was groggy, but instinctively, I reached for my phone on the nightstand. I didn’t even need to turn on the lamp—I knew exactly where it was. As the screen lit up, the time glowed back at me: a little after 3:00 AM.
Just as I set the phone back down, I heard some noise outside. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it was enough to make me pause. Was it coming from the driveway next door? Or maybe from the house across the street? Our bedroom sits above the garage, facing the street, so sounds from outside often filter in. But I didn’t think much of it. My first thought was that a neighbor had just gotten home late, or maybe someone was heading out early for work. There was no reason to be alarmed. So, I let it go. I didn’t peek through the window. I didn’t wake my husband. I simply rolled over and let sleep claim me once more.
Morning came faster than I expected. That day, my husband had an important onsite project, meaning he had to leave early to beat the traffic. Our older son, who also had an early start, was following his usual routine. By 6:15 AM, they’d both be out the door. Everything seemed normal.
Then came the knock.
It wasn’t just a soft tap—it was firm, urgent. The kind that jolts you awake before your brain fully catches up. Our son never woke us up when leaving for the day. Something was off. I got up. Before I could even ask what was the matter, he blurted out words that made no sense to my half-asleep brain.
“Mom, where is my car?”
I stared at him, confused. What kind of question was that? He should know where his car was—he had driven it home the night before. My brain scrambled to make sense of it, but before I could respond, he exclaimed, this time with urgency, panic laced in his voice:
“Mom, my car is gone!”
Gone? How? Cars don’t just disappear. My heart started racing as I followed him outside. And then I saw it—the shattered glass scattered across the left side of the driveway, glittering under the early morning light.My stomach dropped.
The car had been stolen!
The sight of it hit me like a wave, leaving me momentarily frozen in place. A chill ran through me, but I quickly pulled myself together, determined to show strength in the face of such uncertainty. In a moment that could easily leave anyone feeling unsteady, with a voice trembling in fear, I knew I had to be the rock — the calm in the storm — and set an example for how to handle the situation with composure. And yes, I managed to do just that.
I turned to my son, his face a mixture of shock and anger. My husband, already dressed and rushing out the door for work, had only a moment to process the situation. He offered quick instructions, but he had no choice—he had to go. That left my son and me standing there, still trying to comprehend what had just happened.
My son immediately grabbed his phone and called the authorities. As he spoke, confusion and anger were evident in his tone, I did the only thing I knew to do in moments like this—I prayed.
"Lord, You know where it is. Please halt the car. Don’t let it be driven too far where we can’t locate it."
I repeated the plea in my heart, hoping against hope that somehow, someway, the car could be recovered before it disappeared completely.
Then I remembered—the cameras. I rushed back inside and grabbed my phone, my fingers moving quickly to open the alert monitoring system app. My heart pounded as I scrolled through the recorded footage. And there it was.
The grainy video showed young men approaching the car in the dead of night, moving swiftly, with purpose. In a matter of moments, they were inside, and then—just like that—they drove away. Watching it happen, even through a screen, was gut-wrenching.
My son stood behind me, watching the footage over my shoulder. His hands clenched into fists. He had just finished paying off that car. It wasn’t just a possession—it was a milestone, a symbol of his hard work. And now, it was gone.
To say he was furious would be an understatement.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my own emotions in check. There was nothing more frustrating than feeling helpless in a situation like this. But I wasn’t going to let despair take over. In my heart, I held on to hope. Because I knew one thing for certain—God sees all, and nothing is truly lost when placed in His hands.
I stepped over to our neighbor’s house, hoping they might have some security footage. To my delight, they were incredibly kind and more than willing to help. Within no time, they texted me the video footages that their cameras captured.
My son stayed on the call, waiting patiently. He and I could hear the officer speaking to someone else in the background, adding to our confusion and frustration.
He paced around the house, clearly unsettled. His emotions were a mix of anger, frustration, and disbelief. Every now and then, he let out a deep breath. I could tell he was processing everything—the shock of the situation, the inconvenience, and the uncertainty of what would happen next. He had to call work, but he was on hold with the officer on the other line.
So, I stayed close, silently praying, and waiting for the next step. I've come to a painful realization, blamed myself for everything, because here's the thing:
Recall what I said early on? Waking up at dawn, and not long after, I heard a strange commotion—but instead of investigating, I brushed it off. Probably just a neighbor coming home late or leaving early, I told myself. So I rolled over, trusting that all was well.
Well, it wasn’t. And because I didn't pay importance to it, the thieves had come and gone, carrying out their wicked plans while I slept just a few steps away. Literally!
And the worst part? I could have stopped them. One press of the floodlight camera siren would have been enough to send them running. But I didn’t. I ignored the warning.
And let me tell you—I was furious with myself.
However, in the midst of my frustration, something became undeniably clear: my guardian angel had tried to warn me!
As I type this, another thought strikes me—angels have been communicating with us since biblical times. They appeared in dreams to Saint Joseph, guiding and protecting the Holy Family. But in my case? My angel woke me
Angels speak to us in many ways. Are we paying attention?
So, while my son was still on hold, the officer was checking reports—and then came a surprising update. They had already received a call about a car that had crashed into a parked vehicle in a nearby neighborhood.
Here’s the shocking part—the description matched our son’s car!
Talk about an unexpected twist. One moment, we thought it was gone for good, and the next, it was sitting just a couple of miles away, involved in an accident. Who was driving it? What condition was it in? We had no answers yet, but one thing was clear—we needed to see it for ourselves. And that's what we did, headed to the location where it had been spotted. It wasn’t far—just about two miles from our home. My mind raced with questions. Why did they abandon it? Would the car still be in one piece?
As we drove, I couldn’t shake the disbelief. Just hours ago, the car had vanished without a trace. Relief, frustration, and curiosity, but mostly joy, peace and thanksgiving flooded my mind all at once. We had no idea what condition it was in, but one thing was certain—we were about to find out.
It was a wild turn of events that morning also for the homeowners in the neighborhood, who witnessed that early morning chaotic scene unfold right outside their door, and called the cops. Car thieves, likely trying to make a quick getaway, rammed into their vehicle parked along the curb and had lost control while making a sharp turn, slamming into their parked car. The impact caused a rear-ended collision.
Naturally, the thieves didn’t stick around. They fled the scene on foot, leaving behind a the car key still in the ignition. The thieves, to avoid getting the attention of cops, had to abandon the car, though they knew despite some damage to the right side of the hood was still drivable. They were long gone by the time the responding police officer made it to the scene. I forwarded the video footages to the police officer after discussing important details.
The silver lining? We were able to drive the car home, where it was then picked up by the tow truck arranged by our insurance provider later that day. It was transported straight to the nearest auto body shop where the repairs could begin.
For the next three weeks after the incident, my son worked remotely from home, his thoughts often drifting back to his car, eager for its return.
We couldn’t have been more thankful for the quick thinking of the other party involved in this car theft who reported the accident. Their timely action, along with the surprisingly good condition of my son’s car after the crash, gave us peace of mind. We were also impressed by the swift response from the police to the car theft. The insurance company came through in a big way, too. We are glad that we had full coverage—something we were extremely grateful for in that moment. But above all, the highest item on our gratitude list is the fact that God intervened, preventing the situation from escalating into something much worse.
Now is your turn to share your stories ingrained with a heavenly touch. Shoot me a message, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Many Blessings!
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