When God Stopped a Runaway Land Rover in Costa Rica
A testimony by Nancy Lamka-Smith
I want to share something that happened during one of my stays in Costa Rica. The second time I lived there, I was with my son for about nine months. He had a house in Escaleras, on the western side of Costa Rica, maybe five miles from Dominical. The road coming down from where he lived was rough — boulders, potholes, not easy driving at all. And Dominical itself back then was just potholes and difficult streets. It has apparently changed quite a bit since then, but that's how it was.
My son had an old Land Rover — and I mean old. It was like an army tank. Extremely heavy. And it was a stick shift. He had shown me how to drive it, but it wasn't exactly my comfort zone.
While he was away traveling for business, I ran out of food. There was nothing to do but go to the mercado myself, even though it was too far to walk. So I prayed, got in the Land Rover, and drove down those potholed mountain roads to Dominical.
I made it. I parked in front of the Mercado, where there was just a slight incline. I pulled up the emergency brake, got out of the car, and stepped into the space between the Land Rover and a truck parked nearby.
That's when the Land Rover began to roll.
I didn't realize the emergency brake wasn't working. Very slowly — almost gently — that enormous machine started moving. My first thought wasn't even about myself. I thought, Oh no, my son is going to be so upset if it hits that truck.
I put my hands on the Land Rover and said, "In Jesus' name, stop."
It did not stop.
I put my hands on the roll bars at the front of the car and said it again: "In Jesus' name, stop."
It continued to roll — slowly, steadily. And it was only then that I began to feel the truck pressing against the back of my legs. I was trapped between them. I hadn't even fully understood the danger I was in.
I cried out to the Lord with everything in me: Please — dear Lord You have got to stop this in Jesus Name!
And it stopped.
I stood there for a moment. I went in, got my groceries, drove that tank back up the mountain road through all the potholes, and tried not to think about it too much. I was just glad I had food. It was a nice day, thank God — when it rained, those roads were treacherous and slippery. I remember thinking, I never want to drive that thing again.
And for a while, I didn't think much more about it.
It wasn't until several years later, when I was visiting friends in Oregon and telling the story, that one of them stopped me. She said she knew of a man who had been in almost the exact same situation — caught between a car and a truck on a road. The vehicle rolled. It crushed him.
When she said that, the full weight of what had happened in front of that mercado came over me. The fear that I hadn't felt in the moment — I felt it then. The realization of how serious it had truly been. How merciful God had been to me.
Even now, as I share this, there is a little tremor in my heart. A quiet, grateful tremor that says: Lord, thank you for being gracious to me. Thank you for sparing my life.
He has a good purpose for all of our lives. He delights in us as we delight in Him. He sings over us. We can rest in His love.
A testimony by Nancy Lamka-Smith
I want to share something that happened during one of my stays in Costa Rica. The second time I lived there, I was with my son for about nine months. He had a house in Escaleras, on the western side of Costa Rica, maybe five miles from Dominical. The road coming down from where he lived was rough — boulders, potholes, not easy driving at all. And Dominical itself back then was just potholes and difficult streets. It has apparently changed quite a bit since then, but that's how it was.
My son had an old Land Rover — and I mean old. It was like an army tank. Extremely heavy. And it was a stick shift. He had shown me how to drive it, but it wasn't exactly my comfort zone.
While he was away traveling for business, I ran out of food. There was nothing to do but go to the mercado myself, even though it was too far to walk. So I prayed, got in the Land Rover, and drove down those potholed mountain roads to Dominical.
I made it. I parked in front of the Mercado, where there was just a slight incline. I pulled up the emergency brake, got out of the car, and stepped into the space between the Land Rover and a truck parked nearby.
That's when the Land Rover began to roll.
I didn't realize the emergency brake wasn't working. Very slowly — almost gently — that enormous machine started moving. My first thought wasn't even about myself. I thought, Oh no, my son is going to be so upset if it hits that truck.
I put my hands on the Land Rover and said, "In Jesus' name, stop."
It did not stop.
I put my hands on the roll bars at the front of the car and said it again: "In Jesus' name, stop."
It continued to roll — slowly, steadily. And it was only then that I began to feel the truck pressing against the back of my legs. I was trapped between them. I hadn't even fully understood the danger I was in.
I cried out to the Lord with everything in me: Please — dear Lord You have got to stop this in Jesus Name!
And it stopped.
I stood there for a moment. I went in, got my groceries, drove that tank back up the mountain road through all the potholes, and tried not to think about it too much. I was just glad I had food. It was a nice day, thank God — when it rained, those roads were treacherous and slippery. I remember thinking, I never want to drive that thing again.
And for a while, I didn't think much more about it.
It wasn't until several years later, when I was visiting friends in Oregon and telling the story, that one of them stopped me. She said she knew of a man who had been in almost the exact same situation — caught between a car and a truck on a road. The vehicle rolled. It crushed him.
When she said that, the full weight of what had happened in front of that mercado came over me. The fear that I hadn't felt in the moment — I felt it then. The realization of how serious it had truly been. How merciful God had been to me.
Even now, as I share this, there is a little tremor in my heart. A quiet, grateful tremor that says: Lord, thank you for being gracious to me. Thank you for sparing my life.
He has a good purpose for all of our lives. He delights in us as we delight in Him. He sings over us. We can rest in His love.
