Rain, Rain...brings memories of a bad day

I was five and a half months pregnant with Josh.  We were coming back from a family get together through Northern Indiana and it was pouring rain.  The kind of pouring rain that covers your windshield with a sheet of water and the window wipers can barely keep up.  Traveling on the highway at a slower speed, I thought that we were doing pretty well for the circumstances.  I had volunteered to drive the Hubs' truck so he could rest a bit.  Our dog at the time, Abby, was curled up on the back seat.  The Hubs was saying something about taking it a bit slower because the rain wasn't letting up, as I noticed the car moving in a way it shouldn't.

"Honey, HonEY, HONey..."  

The truck began spinning.  We were in the far left lane of a three lane highway.  

It was like the tea cup ride at the carnival.  You could feel forces beyond your control pulling and pushing you.  All I could do was hold onto the wheel.  I'm not even sure I screamed or had my eyes open.  

And we spun.  And spun.  And spun.  Until.  

We stopped.  

The guard rail on the opposite side of the highway stopped us.  Facing the right way.  Fully intact.  All of us.

I'm pretty sure I was panting and saying something about Abby being ok. Being in the center of the vehicle some force kept her right where she was.  She looked at me with sleepy eyes.  Then I remembered the little life growing inside of me.  I felt the baby move and almost broke down into tears.

The Hubs calmed me down and his instincts set in.  He said we needed to move.  We couldn't stay on the side of the road in this weather with all those car and semi-trucks on the road. (Later, as we marveled at how we spun across those three lanes without hitting anyone, he would tell me that he could see several headlights coming our way.)  He said I would need to drive, because there was no room for him to switch with me.  

And we moved.  I put on my hazards and slowly rode the narrow shoulder until I could pull out into traffic.  We got off at the next exit and pulled into a gas station.  There were numerous hugs, a few nervous laughs and a quick check of the vehicle before we were calm enough to think rationally.  The extent of the damage:  one lost license plate and the tailgate was a bit shoved over.  

We called my family who happened to be nearby and someone came to help make sure we got home ok.  I had called my doctor and they needed me to come to the hospital, just in case.  I was fine, a little dehydrated, but the baby was great.  I asked the nurse to let the sound of the heartbeat stay on for a while.  I reveled in it's amazing strength after such an ordeal.  It didn't know what had happened.  It didn't know how the Lord's hand had guided our truck across those lanes, missing all the possibilities for more danger and land us safely on the other side, facing forward, still running, as if I had parked it there, ready for the next move.  

I'm thinking of this memory today because we are driving out of town tonight.  Most likely in some strong rain and storms.  Although my panic has gradually settled over time, I still feel great fear when the rains come down hard as we drive.  Ask any of my family members and they each have a story about my fear of driving in the rain.  

So, tonight as you say your prayers with your family, please include us.  Traveling mercies for three family vans, going the distance overnight, intending to find our way to the ocean by tomorrow afternoon.  I usually don't like to advertise our absence from home, but we will be gone (with no computer access), so pray for us tonight and come back to visit in a week or so.  I'm sure to have great stories to tell, pictures to show and laughs to share.