When God Lifted Us Up—Part 1

The night was dark. Strong wind whipped the snow into deep drifts as Dad fought to keep the car on the road. Snow fell quickly all around us, sometimes coming down so fast that the windshield was completely covered and we couldn’t see a thing through the windows. It was just a blinding whirl of white outside.
 

‘fence’ by jenny downing on Flickr

We were on our way home after a wonderful night of fellowship with our church family. The usual half-hour drive from our house had been converted from fairly pleasant to pretty scary for us four children. Snowstorms can be dangerous, and we were in a bad one. One thing was certain—the snow was getting deeper by the minute, and we still had a ways to go to get home. We had not reached the gully yet where the snow always piled the deepest and was the most dangerous part of the trip. Every winter, quite a few cars ended up becoming stuck in that area—and in the small station wagon only 15 cm (6 in) or so off the ground the chances of us getting through safely seemed pretty flimsy.
 
I’m sure Dad and Mum sent many prayers heavenward that night. I was only six or so, so I can’t remember if they said anything verbally. I just remember being scared stiff every time we slipped a little, wondering if this was the time we’d have an accident that could end our lives. Suddenly, Dad began singing. I don’t remember what we sang that night, but soon the car was rocking with music. I remember we sang a song about angels protecting us. We probably sang quite a few songs, but even about ten years later I remember the joy that filled us as that little white station wagon battled it’s way through the drifts. We knew God was in control, and we trusted that He would take care of us.
 
Tall drifts rose out of the swirling white blackness. We could feel the car actually being lifted up over the drifts. I remember feeling amazing elation and joy at seeing how God was helping us get home. Then Mum gasped. We had reached “the” gully. Down at the bottom, a black shape loomed. It was a car, stuck, the wheels buried in snow. We were headed straight toward it, and Dad had no way to stop us. Even if he did turn the wheel, it would not have made a difference because of the slippery conditions. We were headed toward a terrible accident.

 

…and I shall return next Sunday with part two.
Have a great week!

Stay close to Him,
Esther