Mary Smith was overjoyed when her daughter Amber got engaged. She was a little worried when she found out just where she would be marrying. Mary writes:

Our daughter slowly seated herself between us on the living room sofa.

“Greg and I have decided we want to be married in the mountains!” Smiling sweetly, she went on to describe the little chapel a friend of theirs had recommended they exchange vows in, and announced they’d set the date for May.

We were apprehensive, to say the least. Never mind the fact that the chapel was located at mile marker 27, on the Blue Ridge Parkway of Virginia, or that the journey was straight up the mountain without guard rails at times. Never mind the fact that May was the time of year when fog envelops the mountain roads like a cocoon wrapped around its chrysalis. How were we going to talk our friends and family members into making such a risky weekend trip?

One weekend shortly after our talk, my husband and I trekked up the mountain. We wanted to see what the Haines Chapel looked like, as well as get an idea of where our out-of- town guests would stay.

As we climbed higher and higher up the mountain, the views of the valley below became more and more spectacular. Our spirits soared along with the eagles. Blissful peace surrounded us.

We pulled into one of the overlooks, and climbed out of the car for a stretch. That’s when I heard a voice inside my head as plain as day. “I will lift my eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help…my help cometh from the Lord who made heaven and earth.” Jerking my head up, I looked around to see if anyone had spoken the words from Psalm 121 aloud. My husband had wandered off to a different vantage point.

I was alone.

Bowing my head, I silently whispered a prayer. “Lord, I don’t know how we’re going to pull this mountain wedding off, but something tells me you already have it all figured out! Help me to trust in you!”

I made my way back to the car. Our ascent continued. The chapel rested at the end of a long, winding road, used only for special occasions. The sun danced across the wooden walls and ceiling. A picture of Jesus and a simple wooden cross hung above the altar. With no electricity in the chapel, we would need to use gas lanterns for light. Standing in the middle of an old graveyard adjoining the building, we breathed in the cool mountain air.

“This could be nice!” My husband sighed.

“We’ll keep praying about it all!” I added.

The evening of the wedding finally arrived. It began to drizzle. As Amber climbed out of the car, canopied under a huge, black umbrella, her beauty, and the picturesque scenery took my breath away. As they exchanged vows, and the ceremony was about to end, the fog quickly began rolling in.

Again, I cried out to God. “Please Lord, just get us all safely down the mountain before it gets any worse!”

Our caravan of cars wound around each peak. The bride and groom stopped at a lookout to capture final moments on the mountain top. As the photographer snapped the picture, I looked into our daughter’s eyes. Without a doubt, she knew who had been in charge of things all along, and who would guide us all down the mountain safe and sound.