The day after my mother’s funeral I sat on her bed, thankful that my three daughters were helping me sort through her things. I could hardly touch a piece of her clothing without breaking down in tears. I had tried to make her service a glorious, beautiful tribute to her 100 years of life and unshakable faith . . . but had I honored her the way she would have wanted? I second-guessed everything. Especially the final hymn I chose: “God Will Take Care of You.” I wasn’t even sure why I’d picked it.
Music was a huge part of Mother’s life, interwoven with her faith. Nothing brought her more joy than entertaining folks with a sing-along, playing boogie-woogie or a hymn on the piano. So when it came time to choose the songs for her service my mind flashed back to the hundreds of selections she’d performed over the years. I hoped I’d made the right choice.
“Wow!” one of my daughters said, jolting me from my thoughts. “Look at all those papers.”
I got up off the bed and knelt on the floor in front of a plastic tub that held a bundle of documents. My curiosity took over. What were these papers? Were they notes from my late father? Her childhood friends? I pulled one sheaf out at random and read.
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“Years ago I was planning a road trip, so I traded in my old car for another, better, used one. That same night I had a dream.” A dream? I read on. “I was driving along the highway when suddenly I had to turn my car sharply to the right. Bam! The right front tire blew out and I went up and over an embankment.
“The next morning I awoke with a start, terribly worried about the tires on my new car. I drove it to an auto-body shop. ‘I’m planning a road trip next week. Do you think my tires are in good shape for it?’ I asked the mechanic.
“He checked out all the tires and came back to the lobby. ‘Ma’am, all of your tires are worn—especially that front right one. We’ve got to change them straight away.’
“‘You’re kidding,’ I said. A shiver ran down my spine. I bought four brand-new tires.
“The following week I set out on my road trip. I was driving along when all at once an oncoming car veered into my lane! I turned sharply to the right just like I had in my dream. . .only this time my tire didn’t blow out. I was totally fine. Totally protected.”
I was amazed. Mom had never told any of us this story. She’d probably written it down, planning to submit it somewhere, but never got around to it. I finished reading.
“And that’s why to this day my very favorite hymn is ‘God Will Take Care of You,’ because I know, without a doubt, that God protects me. He protects us all.”
And now I knew that my choice of hymn had been the right one.
