We drive a mini-van. Yes, a mom-van. I never thought I would say it, but I do. We bought it after Joshua was born and we realized that a sedan, although cute and sporty, was not big enough or safe enough for a family with 2 small children.
I love my van. It has hidden storage compartments and gets relatively good gas mileage. I do like the safety of it also. However, every time we take a trip, I pray for traveling mercies. I have complete faith in my husband's ability to drive. He does have a commercial driver's license. It's the other people (and animals) on the road that I don't trust.
The boys normally sit in the middle row of the van. This gives us easy access to them while driving and easy entry and exit. However, Joe felt he needed to move them to the back row on Saturday morning. I'm so glad he did.
Joe followed the bus to Flagstaff for the field trip. We had a wonderful time together. But when my class (and bus) was going to Walnut Canyon for a hike, Joe decided to head home early with the boys. As he was driving down the freeway, he came to a patch that had been ripped up earlier that day. The concrete was gone and it was pretty much just rough ground. He was behind a semi-truck, but it kept kicking up rocks and pelting the windshield. We have replaced the windshield twice in the 3 years that we have owned the van. We didn't want to replace it again.
So, Joe decided to pass the truck in the left lane. As he was driving next to the truck, he kept hearing rocks hitting the van. And then POW!!!!!!!!!!!! The middle window exploded! A rock must have kicked up and hit the window at just the right angle. Glass shards went every where. But, the boys were protected because they were in the third row. Because Joe listened to the prompting and had moved them there that morning. Thank you, Lord.