“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” Psalm 33:18 NIV

The excitement mounted as we stopped in the loading zone of our hotel at Thirty-fourth Street and Lexington in Manhattan. Controlled chaos reigned as dozens of parties filled the lobby to check in. In the madness, I helped unload our luggage, presents, and a cooler full of the makings for a Christmas breakfast.

It was December 23, 2010 and we’d driven from North Carolina with our daughter to celebrate with her older brother who couldn’t come home that year. I thought the trip would be a hard sell, but my husband Dan believes that the times you break from the norm are the holidays you remember most. He was in.

For three days, we walked back and forth to the nearby subway and enjoyed the touristy holiday sights. I cooked our favorites on Christmas morning, and we opened presents—a wonderful blend of adventure and tradition.

During our comings and goings, Dan kept an eye on weather reports. A winter storm had developed in the south and its arrival could affect our drive home. On December 26, the forecast looked so bad we decided to leave a day early. Dan went downstairs early to ask that our car be sent up from the garage. He soon returned and rousted us from the warmth of our beds.

The hotel had no record of our car being parked. They had no keys and even a walk-through of the garage revealed no sign of our car. Thinking back on the madness of check-in, Dan realized he hadn’t given the keys to the valet or instructed anyone to park the car. Now, we were faced with two options. Our car had been stolen or towed.

“Pray,” he said, and I did.

“To the Lord I cry aloud, and he answers me from His holy hill.” Psalm 3:4 NIV

We believed God hears our prayers, but this was a major test. I packed and waited for word from Dan who stood in the lobby with disastrous scenarios dancing in his head. Where did towed cars go in New York and how much did it cost to retrieve them? Could we find it before the storm locked us in? Even worse, stolen cars could disappear forever, reduced to pieces in a chop shop. How would he explain our foolishness to big city police?

The lobby had become crowded with the exodus—filled with noise as guests prepared to leave en mass. Staring at his phone, praying for words, Dan wandered outside to make the dreaded call. He noticed a black sedan like ours parked a few yards up the street, just past a bus stop, barely within the loading zone. Could it be?

Imagine the hope he dared to consider as he hurried to check the license plate. North Carolina. It was ours! The keys were in the ignition.

What would you make of this? It’s New York City, not Mayberry. Yet no thief had come. No ticket had been issued. The hotel hadn’t been concerned about a car squatting for days in their loading zone. We’d been blind to it ourselves, as we walked past the spot every time we went out.

The Christmas blizzard of 2010 came and set records, shutting the northeast down. Years later, my faith has grown, but I still marvel at the way He protected our family and kept our Christmas from a disastrous end. Human frailty created the situation, but His grace and mercy saved us.

Thank you, Father, for teaching us who you are, and for showing us your love in mysterious ways.