My husband and I drove to his university, about an hour and a half from home, for a 50th reunion weekend. Events filled both Friday and Saturday, ending quite late each night. I’m the designated driver after parties, and because of commitments, we had to drive back home each night. The Friday night drive went fine, but as we started the drive Saturday night, I was feeling quite ill. I had had little sleep in the days leading up to that weekend, and that lack of sleep, plus an active two days, hit me as dizziness, weakness and nausea. As I drove through a rainstorm along crowded, unfamiliar freeways (“with the drunks out in force” as my husband assured me), I struggled to stay focused on the task at hand, praying firmly about God’s control. Nevertheless, as we approached a long bridge over the bay, I seriously considered taking an exit and stopping somewhere until I could feel better. But I knew my husband would be very alarmed. And more importantly, I knew that God’s presence, strength and caring would not be any closer or stronger off the freeway than they were right where I was. So I kept on, literally praying myself across that bridge, singing silently the hymn that assures us that “everlasting arms of Love are beneath, around, above. He it is who leads us on; His the arm we lean upon.” My conviction of God’s control grew steadily and I knew that no material circumstance (lack of sleep, storm, high winds, dangerous roadways) could weaken that control or prevent us (and everyone on the road) from safely reaching our destination. When we arrived home, I was feeling so good that I was awake for two more hours, taking care of household things. What a comfort it is to know that we are never outside of God’s care and the harmony of the spiritual creation that we live in every moment — and that we can turn trustingly to that care when we need it most.
C.O.