Adreneline Rush

There is nothing quite like seeing two headlights on a interstate highway heading directly for your own son. If I've ever doubted that I would ultimately be able to jump into shark infested water or to dash into a burning house or to attack an armed enemy to save my kids, I doubt no longer. All I wanted to do after our car stopped spinning—in that instant we stared helplessly at the approaching vehicle—was to pull Chad out of that place of danger and to put myself there instead. My little boy!

But I couldn't do anything. The oncoming car rammed into our minivan, pushing Chad's bucket seat right up to mine, slamming our heads together and demolishing the entire driver's side of the vehicle.

And yet he lived. Chad walked out of that harrowing experience with nothing but a bump.

As we drove home in our rental car a few hours later, Chad said that he should be on a commercial for Chevy. "Write them a letter and tell them how safe the Venture is, Mom," he advised. I might do that. But first I had to write a letter to the world saying how good God is.

Thank God for miracles!