Someone watching out for us

On January 1, 2004, I wrote in my personal journal: "I do not know how many more New Year's Days I will live to see. Mercifully and for His wise purposes, Heavenly Father doesn't usually reveal that detail to us. This could be my last one. Or I could see 30 more. Quem sabe. The genius of this mortal probation is that we don't know how long the test lasts."

During the two preceding summers—in August 2002 and again in July 2003—I had suffered and survived heart attacks, the first in my family, as far as we know, to do so. My mother and two brothers had died of heart attacks. My father had died of a stroke. And, so as a new year was beginning, I was in a pensive mood and reflecting on my own mortality.

I am convinced that there are unseen beings, angels if you will, who watch over and protect us, probably far more than we dream of.

In my journal for January 2, 2004, I wrote: "We were faced with one on the drive to work this morning. It had snowed again during the night, and the roads in Salt Lake had not been cleared yet. Bruce Birch was driving his little car, a bit too fast I thought, when along Beck Street we hit some slush and he lost control of the car. Traffic was far lighter than normal for that time of day, and he was able to regain control before hitting anything or leaving the roadway. It was a frightening few moments, and we both concurred after the adrenalin stopped pumping through us that we must have had someone watching out for us.

"I wonder at times how often we are protected on the highways by unseen influences from beyond the veil, including times when we are totally unaware of potential dangers. I consider, for example, when Anna and her friend Bethany Youngs were hit broadside coming down Little Cotton­wood Canyon a couple weeks ago. Anna's car was totaled, but neither of them was hurt.

"Or our near fatal crash in eastern Colorado last summer when we were on our way to Lubbock to visit Robert and Rachael. We were somewhere east of Pueblo on U.S. highway 50, probably near Rocky Ford or La Junta. The highway was divided, two lanes in each direction, but not controlled access. As we approached an intersection, an old man turned left right in front of us, did a U-turn into the right lane going our direction, nearly ran a car off the road, and quickly switched back into the left lane (the one we were in). We came within inches of smashing into him, and Shauna and Rebecca in the minivan behind us nearly smashing into us. We were traveling at least 65 miles per hour, the posted speed limit, and I really do not understand how we did not hit him. Had we done so, he probably would have been dead, and who knows about us. We followed the man into the next town, and the incredible thing is that we don't think he ever even knew what had happened. I am convinced some­one was watching out for us and him that summer morning."