OVER 30 YEARS AGO, during an unrelenting blizzard, under total whiteout conditions, our car skidded on the highway. Unable to gain control of the car, my husband exclaimed, "God, save us and save our future." Our VW Bug hit the curb and slid across the bridge in a wild spin. It seemed it was going to fly through the railing on the other side of the road and dive onto the turnpike below. Right then, these vigorous, though silent, words filled my thought: "God is the only power and the only presence."
The car stopped, as if a big hand had descended on it and another reality had taken over. The traffic all around came to a standstill. Nobody was hurt. We were in awe of the fact that the reality of God's presence, glimpsed in that split second, actually had control of the situation.
In the deep silence that overtook us, we resumed our drive home. The only sound was the crunching of snow under the tires. After a long while, I began to sing a hymn based on a poem entitled "Mother's Evening Prayer," written by Mary Baker Eddy. The line that spoke most vividly to me was, "O Life divine, that owns each waiting hour . . . ." Poems, p. 4.
