The LORD will keep you from all harm—he will watch over your life.

PSALM 121:7 (NIV)

Driving home was always an adventure. Frequently, I’d witness headlights tracing the curve of the highway as dusk settled in. The road was familiar, one I had taken countless times, but it carried its own personality depending on the season. Some evenings felt peaceful, the kind where the sky melted into shades of orange and lavender before fading to night. Other evenings carried a heaviness, like the air itself was whispering to pay attention.

This night felt different. The temperatures had started to drop, pulling away from summer’s warmth into fall’s early chill. The scent of damp leaves lingered through the vents, and the fields along the highway looked muted, the tall grass bowing in the wind. I noticed the hunting stands near the tree lines, small wooden towers standing guard, silent reminders that the seasons were changing. Around this time of year, deer would start crossing the highway without warning, and dusk became a warning sign to stay alert. It was the hour when anything could happen.

As I drove, I thought about how many times I had been spared on this same stretch of pavement. The near misses. The close calls. The accidents that sometimes unfolded before me. Each memory carried its own pulse. I thought about the cars I’d seen in ditches during winter storms and the flashing lights that filled the sky after a crash. I never wanted to be in that moment. Then I thought about all the times I arrived home safely and never stopped to consider what didn’t happen.

Somewhere between exits, gratitude began to rise in me. It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It was quiet, steady, and almost reverent. I realized how easily we take safety for granted and how rarely we pause to thank God for what didn’t go wrong. The truth is, we don’t always know what we’ve been spared from. We complain about delays and grow impatient when traffic slows us down. But sometimes those very interruptions are protection. The slowdowns we resist might be the very things saving us from what we will never see. That night reminded me that life is fragile, and grace often works behind the scenes. Gratitude isn’t just for the visible blessings. It’s for the unseen ones too.

That drive became a mile marker for me. It taught me that every safe arrival, every ordinary commute, every uneventful day is a quiet testimony of grace. Even when we can’t see it, something, or Someone, is holding us steady. Gratitude deepens when we notice what could have been but wasn’t.

Maybe this is your reminder to slow down. To see delays differently. To whisper thanks for the mercies that never made the headlines of your day.

Gratitude begins when you notice what God spared you from.

Keep moving forward,

Dr. Key