When I was in my early twenties, my brother, Daniel, and I were doing some recording of songs that he had written.  We had spent a wet, miserable day at the recording studio in the Blue Mountains and started heading home mid-afternoon.  As we drove down the mountain, Daniel in the driver’s seat, we hit a patch of oil and watched helplessly as the car drifted across two lanes, jumped over the medium strip and continued across the lanes of the oncoming traffic.  Somewhere in that daunting slide, I yelled instinctively, “Lord Jesus!”  You have to imagine the slo-mo version as I waited for the sound of crunching metal.  I was just a few weeks pregnant with my first child.  Thoughts rushed through my head over the consequences of meeting the traffic head on in our tiny hatchback.  It was a terrifying moment and all I could think to do was to cast myself on the mercy of the Lord. The words had barely gotten out of my mouth when, from the middle of the oncoming lanes, the car suddenly lurched back in the direction it came from, sliding perfectly back into the lane we had just left.  It was incredibly clear to both of us, even as we sat there breathing heavily with the adrenaline rush of it all, that there was no way of explaining what had just happened to the car.  Well, no way that obeyed the laws of physics.  The rest of the trip home was full of awed gratitude as we realised God had just intervened in our day.  It’s moments like that that remind us we are truly playing out our stories against a backdrop of a much bigger one.  The thought that God had a such a plan and purpose for our lives that He would rescue us from harm that day was overwhelming.  We think so much about our lives as what we can see and touch and hear and smell.  (I also like to think a lot about what I can taste.  Food is fuel, Naomi.)  We focus on the tangible elements of a physical world, making our plans and forging ahead.  But we are part of something so much greater. Elisha, an Old Testament prophet, experienced one of these moments of perceiving the bigger story.  We read about it in 2 Kings 6.  He woke one morning to discover he was completely surrounded by his enemy – horses and chariots and the works, ready to destroy him.  His servant saw the reality of their situation and began to panic.  Elisha just calmly prays that God would open his servant’s eyes to see what he had already been shown.  The servant suddenly observes a thunderous, fiery Angel army surrounding the puny human one.  There was no competition.  And no doubt that God was in control.  Nothing had taken Him by surprise. That glimpse into the larger world – a world we can’t yet explore with our five senses – is a powerful reminder that God is writing our story and weaving it perfectly into His.  The events of our lives can loom large, dominating our focus.  So, how do we stay aware and connected to that bigger reality? Romans 8:16 tells us: “The Spirit Himself testifies and confirms together with our spirit [assuring us] that we [believers] are children of God.” There is a conversation happening between Holy spirit and our spirit all the time.  It’s different to the inner monologue we find ourselves speaking.  It’s a direct communication from the throne room of Heaven to us.  And that Spirit is constantly affirming that we are God’s children, that we are part of a larger story. Jesus gave us this thought about what the Holy Spirit would do for us in John 16:13: “When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all truth. He will not speak on his own but will tell you what he has heard. He will tell you about the future.” My prayer for you today is that you would not be so overwhelmed by your physical reality that you miss the epic unveiling of your greater story.  Let the Holy Spirit bear witness with your spirit that you are, indeed, a much loved and cherished daughter of God, who delights in writing your story.