A decade ago, country singer Carrie Underwood won a Grammy for crooning about a woman driving home too fast through snow with her baby in the backseat. When the car begins to slide, she throws up her hands and sings, “Jesus take the wheel, take it from my hands, ‘cause I can’t do this on my own. I’m letting go.”

My family laughs at me because the first thing I do in a car when we’ve come close to having an accident – whether from another driver’s mistake or my own – is to cry, “Jesus!” Actually, they hate it. “Why do you do that, Mom?” one of my teens complained the last time it happened.

Here’s why. When I was about 8, sitting with a group of kids in a cabin by an Oregon lake at Camp Farthest Out, our teacher spoke about the power of the name of Jesus. “Whenever you are afraid or need help or feel a dark presence,” she said. “Speak the name of Jesus and the enemy has to flee.”

When Christ’s disciples went out preaching, they exclaimed, “Lord, even the demons are subject to your name!” (Luke 10:17 ESV). Scripture says that the name of Jesus delivers people from sickness (Acts 3:6), forgives sins (Acts 2:38) and gives eternal life (Rom. 10:13). “If you ask anything in my name,” Jesus said in John 14:14, “I will do it.”

That’s a powerful name.

In ancient Hebrew culture, a name represented a person’s character, position and authority. Calling on Jesus would be something like calling on the American President if he were your personal advocate, with all of his power, resources, and ability assigned for your personal protection.

So there, I was, driving home last week through a freak end-of-April snow storm down the windy back roads of Woolwich, my two youngest children strapped in the backseat, when the back wheels began to slide and we crossed the center line. I took my foot off the gas and gently tried to straighten the steering wheel only to find ourselves headed for the trees on the other side of the road. As the car swung back and forth over the center line, I thought, there is nothing I can do to control this car.

“Jesus!” I cried out. “You are in control! I pray for your protection!”

Tap the brake, I felt deep inside, even though I’d been told never to hit the brakes in a slide. But when I did – ever so gently – the wheels grabbed. I tapped them again. Several yards later, we were back on our side of the road, headed in the right direction.

In life, we are often bamboozled by freak storms that jeopardize ourselves and those we love. When we find ourselves spinning out of control, certain to crash, we can try to straighten things out on our own, or we can surrender control of our lives to God, who has appointed Jesus as our advocate. The first step is to admit that we need him. Then follow his instructions for a safe ride home.

MEADOW RUE MERRILL is a Mid-coast Maine writer who shares about God in her everyday life through “Faith

Notes.” For more, go to www.meadowrue.com where you can follow her on Twitter or

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