Proof The Bible Is True

Twelve hundred miles to go, I thought, pulling onto the highway here in Indiana, my 75-year-old mother-in-law in the passenger seat. My oldest daughter was getting married in San Antonio, Texas, in a few days, and we were anxious to get down there.

 

It was a beautiful, sunny March day, light jacket weather, and barely any traffic. We’d get to Texas in no time at all, I figured.

 

Wrong. The lamblike weather quickly turned into a lion. Flurries began to fall before we even hit the Illinois state line. By the time we got to Joplin, Missouri, we were in a blinding snowstorm. I couldn’t see past the hood of the car.

 

I glanced at my mother-in-law. Mom had heart problems and high blood pressure, one reason we’d driven instead of flown. To avoid the stress, supposedly. Pulling over and waiting it out wasn’t an option. We could get stuck. I couldn’t risk that with Mom in the car.

 

I kept going, slowly and carefully. Mom kept her eye on the shoulder of the road, making sure we were headed straight.

 

“We’ve got to stop somewhere,” I finally said. It was too dangerous to keep driving.

 

“Where?” Mom asked.

 

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