It was God’s grace that I didn’t kill the air conditioner guy.

You know those moments when a person’s words – spoken in a different language – don’t register in your brain right away? And when they do actually make sense, it’s too late?

Unfortunately, it happened with me and a difficult-to-understand AC guy one sweltering summer day.

We were testing the air conditioner in my daughter’s bedroom, and before he strode out the door, toolbox in hand, to work on the outside unit, he turned to face me. As he emphasized important instructions, I nodded instinctively to reassure him that he could count on me.

Looking back, I only remember his angry body language and that his heavily accented Mandarin was indecipherable to me.

Hmmmm, I thought to myself in the interlude. It sure is hot in here. I wonder if the AC is working yet... I’ll just turn on the air conditioner remote and see what happens.

Minutes later, AC guy’s body filled the door frame. Smoke coming out his ears, his body language communicated what his words did not. As hot as it was, that moment has become frozen in time.

I knew then exactly what he told me I wasn’t supposed to do. And I knew that I had done exactly that.

I sometimes think of that story as my “Emmaus Road moment.” You know, the moment when the disciples experienced a lightbulb-turning-on realization: the stranger walking alongside them in their despair was actually Jesus.

I wonder how much of the time we might actually be in the dark about what’s going on around us? How much we all need Him to open our eyes, as well as our ears, to truly see and to truly hear.

“From his abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another.” (John 1:16, NLT)