The Story Behind Dancing With Jesus

Which falls faster? A penny dropped from the top of the Empire State Building… or a Cadillac Fleetwood carrying one terrified mother and three little girls plunging toward the edge of a mountain cliff?

Does it really matter?

When death feels only seconds away, measurements become meaningless.

The song “Dancing With Jesus” was born from a moment I will never forget, a moment when heaven felt closer than earth.

My family was traveling to a week-long camping retreat deep in the mountains. We had split into two vehicles. My husband and son rode behind in one car, while I traveled before them with our three daughters. What started as a joyful girls’ trip became the most terrifying experience of my life.
The mountain road twisted endlessly along steep cliffs and sharp curves. We laughed, talked, and enjoyed the ride, never imagining how quickly peace could turn into panic.
Then suddenly… it happened.

As we started down a steep mountainside descent, I pressed the brake pedal.
Nothing.
I pressed harder.
Still nothing.
The car began gaining speed.
Fast.
Too fast.

My heart slammed into my chest as the Cadillac grew heavier and harder to control with every passing second. Gravel spit from beneath the tires. The winding road blurred before my eyes. I fought the steering wheel with everything I had, but gravity was winning.

And then I saw it.
The edge.
The cliff waiting below us.
There was nowhere to go except down.

Fear, unlike anything I had ever known, flooded my body. Not fear for myself, but fear for my daughters sitting beside me, trusting me to keep them safe while I realized I could not.
I remember apologizing to them.

Imagine that.

A mother apologizing to her children because she believes she is about to die with them.
“I’m sorry,” I cried, unable to stop what was happening.

In that instant, my prayers changed. I didn’t pray for God to stop the car because my mind could not see any possible escape. The front wheels had already gone beyond the edge of the cliff. Gravity had spoken. Death felt certain.

Instead, I prayed for mercy.
“Lord, forgive us. Please take us to heaven.”
I truly believed those were the final moments of our lives.
But God had another plan.

What happened next cannot be explained by logic, physics, or human understanding.

The vehicle,  a heavy Cadillac Fleetwood carrying four people,  was suddenly lifted back onto the roadway.

Lifted.
Not by momentum.
Not by driving skill.
Not by chance.

There were no guardrails that saved us. No heroic maneuver. No natural explanation that could account for what happened.

One moment, we were going over the cliff.

The next moment, we were safely back on the road.

Even now, years later, I struggle to describe the overwhelming shock of sitting there alive, breathing, holding my daughters, realizing we had just been spared from certain death.

And I was not alone in witnessing it.
I had a car full of witnesses.
That day changed me forever.
People can debate religion. They can question faith. They can argue theology. But when you have looked death in the face and experienced the unmistakable hand of God intervene, belief becomes something deeper.

I don’t merely believe there is a God.
I know there is.

Miracles may not happen every day, but once you experience one, it becomes etched into your soul forever.

That experience became the heartbeat behind the song “Dancing With Jesus.”

I could have literally been dancing with Jesus in heaven that day.
Instead, because of His mercy, I am still dancing here on earth,  because Jesus saved me and my daughters.

Now every step I take, every breath I breathe, every joyful moment I experience reminds me of that mountainside miracle.
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And that is why I choose to dance with Jesus every single day.