The kids and I went to visit family while my husband was on a mission trip to Nicaragua. We had a great time. We even took a quick stop in Savannah to ride one of the ferries. But THIS was my drive home:
I have been under a great deal of stress before, but I don’t think I’ve been under such intense pressure for such a long time. I drove through FIVE hours of pouring rain and flooding. I was terrified I would either hydro-plain off the road, or someone would run into me. I decided to get off the interstate because it had become a parking lot. Instead, I drove on smaller two lane roads. At one point in one little town, the police were blocking roads because of the water gushing down the street.
But with my hands gripping the wheel and the kids perfectly happy in the back of the van, I started praying. I prayed for safety. I prayed for other people. I prayed for family. I prayed. I prayed.
Then I started to really listen to what my daughter was singing behind me. To the tune of “In Christ Alone,” she was singing the gospel in her own words.
“Jesus you died on a cross. You rose again and you love me. There was some rain and thunder and an earthquake when you died. And you rose up. You are my King. I love you. You died on the cross. It was very sad for the people around. You rose in victory.”
She was doing exactly what I needed to do. Yes, I was talking to the Lord, but I needed to be telling myself the Truth.
My hands relaxed. I sat back in the seat. I kept my eyes focused on the road, but my heart was focused on my Savior.