I went on a field trip with my daughters' class. The day before the weather predictions were iffy. Snow, ice, sleet all showed up on the app their teacher kept checking. She wavered about cancelling altogether. Then she called the driver.

"Drive in this weather? Lady, I drove a bus in Montana. This is nothing."

We went. 

The air temperature inside the bus clashed with that outside causing the windows to fog over. From my third row seat I could not see the road, or the buildings we passed. It made me anxious. 

Then I thought about Montana. 

Maybe this man did not actually need my attentive support. Maybe he had this. Slowly my shoulders lowered, and I drew my attention to the fourteen girls singing in the back of the bus. It did not seem to occur to them to worry about the ice. I began to join in in the conversation between the other mothers who came along for the ride. Chatting was actually more interesting than worrying. 

As a passenger in my own marriage I sometimes feel the need to back seat drive. I holler to the Driver to slow down, turn left, watch out for the steep incline. Surely my advice will make or break the journey, and He would do well to heed my suggestions. 

But I have a feeling He has driven this way before, and under conditions that make Montana look like paradise.