It was late fall, 1978, and I had taken a friend to pick up his car at a dealership on the other side of Birmingham, Alabama. Traveling back on a busy I-65 during rush hour can be daunting on a good day, but this day was damp and the traffic was still moving at a breakneck pace. I wasn’t happy about the interruption to my daily routine.

I must admit, being eight months pregnant and with hormones raging, it didn’t take too much to set me off. This particular friend had been living with my husband and me for a few months and I was ready for him to move on. The car was the first step, so I was willing to do whatever it took to speed up the process.

I dropped him off and was flying low back toward my side of town in a big Chrysler Cordoba when suddenly it began to spin out of control, hydroplaning, a term I’d heard of, but never experienced. The traffic was surrounding me on all sides.

My mind went completely blank. I couldn’t remember whether you steer into the spin or out of it. “This is it,” I thought, not really afraid. “What a shame. My husband, Kerry will be so sad; to lose both me and our first baby.”

As I just let go of the steering wheel, raising my hands, I simply said, “Lord, I’m ready to go, but isn’t there something you have for this little baby to do?” Then I watched in amazement as I would turn first to one side and then to the other and there would be no car whatsoever and yet as I faced the traffic head on again and again, there were three lanes of traffic facing me and passing on both sides.

I must have spun completely around three or four times. Then the car pulled to the side and as I slowed to a stop I put my hands back on the steering wheel.

That little baby grew up to be a strong woman, committed to the Lord and has already been a wonderful influence on the group that she lead as youth minister for three years and several young men that she advised and mentored in a youth correctional facility as a volunteer. I have no doubt that there will be much more in her future. Following her, just short of two years later, was her little brother, a dedicated Christian seeking God’s will in his life. He is now in seminary studying for the ministry.

God wasn’t ready to take me home, so He sent a holy protector to guide my car on a slippery highway that cold November day. There were other hands guiding my steering wheel in 1978. The complete peace that I felt was God-given. I wasn’t alone in that car. I felt surrounded with love and protection. I believe in miracles because I have experienced at least one first hand.

Barna B.

Rayville, LA